ur_ favor.

"In two years more," she explained, "the child of that detestable
creature who was hanged--do you know, I cannot even look at the little
wretch without thinking of the gallows?--will be old enough (with your
interest to help us) to be received into the asylum. What a relief
it will be to get rid of that child! And how hard I shall work at
canvassing for subscribers' votes! Your name will be a tower of
strength when I use it as a reference. Pardon me--you are not looking so
pleasantly as usual. Do you see some obstacles in our way?"

"I see two obstacles."

"What can they possibly be?"

For the second time, my politeness gave way under the strain laid on it.
"You know perfectly well," I said, "what one of the obstacles is."

"Am I to understand that you contemplate any serious resistance on the
part of my husband?"

"Certainly!"

She was unaffectedly amused by my simplicity.

"Are you a single man?" she asked.

"I am a widower."

"Then your experience ought to tell you that I know every weak point in
the Minister's character. I can tell him, on your authority, that the
hateful child will be placed in competent and kindly hands--and I have
my own sweet baby to plead for me. With these advantages in my favor, do
you actually suppose I can fail to make _my_ way of thinking _his_ way
of thinking? You must have forgotten your own married life! Suppose
we go on to the second of your two obstacles. I hope it will be better
worth considering than the first."

"The second obstacle will not disappoint you," I answered; "I am the
obstacle, this time."

"You refuse to help me?"

"Positively."

"Perhaps reflection may alter your resolution?"

"Reflection will do nothing of the kind."

"You are rude, sir!"

"In speaking to you, madam, I have no alternative but to speak plainly."

She rose. Her shifting eyes, for once, looked at me steadily.

"What sort of enemy have I made of you?" she asked. "A passive enemy who
is content with refusing to help me? Or an active enemy who will write
to my husband?"

"It depends entirely," I told her, "on what your husband does. If he
questions me about you, I shall tell him the truth."

"And if not?"

"In that case, I shall hope to forget that you ever favored me with a
visit."

In making this reply I was guiltless of any malicious intention. What
evil interpretation she placed on my words it is impossible for me to
say; I can only declare that some intolera