en that the thing done must have
been something very bad, because she herself disliked the man so
much; but Miss More knew him, and since he often did 'very, very kind
things,' it was possible that the particular action of which the dying
girl was thinking might have been a charitable one; possibly he had
confided the secret to her. Margaret smiled rather cruelly at her own
superior knowledge of the world--yes, he had told the girl about that
'secret' charity in order to make a good impression on her! Perhaps
that was his favourite method of interesting women; if it was, he
had not invented it. Margaret thought she could have told Miss More
something which would have thrown another light on Mr. Van Torp's
character.

Her reflections had led her back to the painful scene at the theatre,
and she remembered the account of it the next day, and the fact that
the girl's name had been Ida. To change the subject she asked her
neighbour an idle question.

'What is the little girl's full name?' she inquired.

'Ida Moon,' answered Miss More.

'Moon?' Margaret turned her head sharply. 'May I ask if she is any
relation of the California Senator who died last year?'

'She is his daughter,' said Miss More quietly.

Margaret laid one hand on the arm of her chair and leaned forward a
little, so as to see the child better.

'Really!' she exclaimed, rather deliberately, as if she had chosen
that particular word out of a number that suggested themselves.
'Really!' she repeated, still more slowly, and then leaned back again
and looked at the grey waves.

She remembered the notice of Miss Bamberger's death. It had described
the deceased as the only child of Hannah Moon by her former marriage
with Isidore Bamberger. But Hannah Moon, as Margaret happened to know,
was now the widow of Senator Alvah Moon. Therefore the little deaf
child was the half-sister of the girl who had died at the theatre in
Margaret's arms and had been christened by the same name. Therefore,
also, she was related to Margaret, whose mother had been the
California magnate's cousin.

'How small the world is!' Margaret said in a low voice as she looked
at the grey waves.

She wondered whether little Ida had ever heard of her half-sister, and
what Miss More knew about it all.

'How old is Mrs. Moon?' she asked.

'I fancy she must be forty, or near that. I know that she was nearly
thirty years younger than the Senator, but I never saw her.'

'You never saw he