et you come then!" Mr. Sylvester heard her exclaim in a low
smothered tone, whose attempted lightness did not hide the malevolent
nature of her interest.

"Yes," came back in the clear and confiding tones of childhood. "I told
him you loved me and gave me candy-balls, and he let me come."

A laugh quick and soon smothered, disturbed the surrounding gloom. "You
told him I loved you! Well, that is good; I do love you; love you as I
do my own eyes that I could crush, crush, for ever having lingered on
the face of my betrayer!"

The last phrase was muttered, and did not seem to convey any impression
to the child. "Hold out your arms and catch me," cried he; "I am going
to jump."

She appeared to comply; for he gave a little ringing laugh that was
startlingly clear and fresh.

"He asked me what your name was," babbled he, as he nestled in her arms.
"He is always asking what your name is; Dad forgets, Dad does; or else
it's because he's never seen you."

"And what did you tell him?" she asked, ignoring the last remark with an
echo of her sarcastic laugh.

"Mrs. Smith, of course."

She threw back her head and her whole form acquired an aspect that made
Mr. Sylvester shudder. "That's good," she cried, "Mrs. Smith by all
means." Then with a sudden lowering of her face to his--"Mrs. Smith is
good to you, isn't she; lets you sit by her fire when she has any, and
gives you peanuts to eat and sometimes spares you a penny!"

"Yes, yes," the boy cried.

"Come then," she said, "let's go home."

She put him down on the floor, and gave him his little crutch. Her
manner was not unkind, and yet Mr. Sylvester trembled as he saw the
child about to follow her.

"Didn't you ever have any little boys?" the child suddenly asked.

The woman shrank as if a burning steel had been plunged against her
breast. Looking down on the frightened child, she hissed out from
between her teeth, "Did he tell you to ask me that? Did he dare--" She
stopped and pressed her arms against her swelling heart as if she would
smother its very beats. "Oh no, of course he didn't tell you; what does
he know or care about Mrs. Smith!" Then with a quick gasp and a wild
look into the space before her, "My child dead, and her child alive and
beloved! What wonder that I hate earth and defy heaven!"

She caught the boy by the hand and drew him quickly away. "You will be
good to me," he cried, frightened by her manner yet evidently fascinated
too, perhaps on acc