reproach myself. I am altogether too morbid on the subject,'
Frank said, and he had decided that he was a pretty good sort of fellow,
after all, when at last Mrs. Crawford came in and he paid her for
Jerry's board.

It was a part of Frank's plan to save the money out of his own personal
expenses, so he smoked two cigars less each day and went without claret
for dinner, except on Sunday, and never touched champagne, and wore his
hats and coats until his wife said they were shabby and insisted upon
new ones. In this way he saved more than three dollars a week, but the
overplus was laid aside for the time when Jerry must necessarily cost
him more because she would be older. In some respects he was doing his
duty by the child, who, next to Harold and Mrs. Crawford, whom she
called grandma, loved him better than any one else. She always ran to
meet him when he came, and sometimes, when he went away, accompanied him
down the lane, holding his hand and asking him numberless questions
about Tracy Park and about his little girl, and why she never came to
see her.

Frank could not tell Jerry of his wife's bitter prejudice against her,
and that this was the reason why Maude had never been to the cottage or
Jerry to the park. But if Jerry had not visited it in person, she was
greatly interested in the handsome house and grounds, and the lovely
rooms where the crazy man lived. This was Harold's designation of Mr.
Arthur--the crazy man--and perhaps of all the things at Tracy Park,
Jerry was most desirous to see him and his rooms. Harold, who, on one of
the rare occasions when Arthur was out to dine, had been sent to the
house on an errand, had gone with Jack into these rooms, which he
described minutely to his grandmother and Jerry, dwelling longest upon
the beautiful picture in the window. 'Gretchen, he calls it,' he said;
and then Jerry, who was listening intently, gave a sudden upward and
sidewise turn to her Lead, just as she had done when Mr. Tracy spoke to
her of Wiesbaden.

'Detchen,' she repeated, with a little hesitancy. 'Vat the name vas? Say
again.'

He said it again, and over the child's face there came a puzzled
expression, as if she were trying to recall something which baffled all
her efforts. But she did not forget the name, and that evening Mrs.
Crawford heard her singing to herself,

'Detchen, Detchen, who are you? Detchen, Detchen, where are you?' and
she noticed that the doll baby with which Jerry played the