ts went sailing to find the
Holy Greal. They have not come back. And south yonder is the country
of the Druids. I will take you to-morrow and show you twenty thousand
of their menhirs, and then we will sail away to an island where there
is an altar that the serpent worshippers built ages before Christ."

Lisa laughed. He was not often in this playful mood. She panted as
she toiled up the dark little street, a step behind him, but he did not
think of giving her his arm. He had grown accustomed to regard himself
as the invalid now, and the one who needed care.

"I am going for letters," he called back, diving into a dingy alley.
The baby and its bonne were near Lisa. The child never was out of her
sight for, a moment. She waited, standing a little apart from Colette
to watch whether the passers-by would notice the baby. When one or two
of the gloomy and stolid women who hurried past in their wooden sabots
clicked their fingers to it, she could not help smiling gayly and
bidding them good-day.

The fog was stifling. As she waited she gave a tired gasp. Colette
ran to her. "Madame is going to be ill!"

"No, no! Don't frighten monsieur."

George came out of the gate at the moment.

"Going to faint again, Lisa?" he said, with an annoyed glance around
the street. "Your attacks do choose the most malapropos times----"

"Oh, dear no, George! I am quite well quite." She walked beside him
with an airy step, laughing gayly now and then, but George's frown
deepened.

"I don't understand these seizures at all," he said. "You seem to be
in sound physical condition."

"Oh, all women have queer turns, George."

"Did you consult D'Abri, as I told you to do, in Paris?"

"Yes, yes! Now let us talk no more about it. I have had
these--symptoms since I was a child."

"You never told me of them before we were married," he muttered.

Lisa scowled darkly at him, but she glanced at the baby and her mouth
closed. Little Jacques should never hear her rage nor swear.

From an overhanging gable at the street corner looked down a roughly
hewn stone Madonna. The arms of the Holy Child were outstretched to
bless. Lisa paused before it, crossing herself. A strange joy filled
her heart.

"I too am a mother! I too!" she said. She hurried after George and
clung to his arm as they went home.

"Was there any letter?" she asked.

"Only one from Munich--Miss Vance. I haven't opened it."

"I thought your mother w