and
then stood a moment looking at him, as if studying his comfort. She was
such a domestic woman!

"You look tired, monsieur," she said, as she passed behind his chair and
rested the tip of her forefinger for a second on his head. "I shall make
you a cup of tea at once."

"Not tired, but bothered," said Jack, stretching out his legs.

"I know," she replied; "it's a bothering world." She was still behind
him, and spoke low, but with sympathy. "I remember, it's only one lump."

He could feel her presence, so womanly and friendly. "I don't care what
people say," he was thinking, "she's a good-hearted little thing, and
understands men." He felt that he could tell her anything, almost
anything that he could tell a man. She was sympathetic and not
squeamish.

"There," she said, handing him the tea and looking down on him.

The cup was dainty, the fragrance of the tea delicious, the woman
exquisite.

"I'm better already," said Jack, with a laugh.

She made a cup for herself, handed him the cigarettes, lit one for
herself, and sat on a low stool not far from him.

"Now what is it?"

"Oh, nothing--a little business worry. Have you heard any Street rumor?"

"Rumor?" she repeated, with a little start. And then, leaning forward,
"Do you mean that about Mr. Henderson in the morning papers?"

"Yes."

Carmen, relieved, gave a liquid little laugh, and then said, with a
change to earnestness: "I'm going to trust you, my friend. Henderson put
it in himself! He told me so this morning when I asked him about it.
This is just between ourselves."

Jack said, "Of course," but he did not look relieved. The clever
creature divined the situation without another word, for there was no
turn in the Street that she was not familiar with. But there was no
apparent recognition of it, except in her sympathetic tone, when she
said: "Well, the world is full of annoyances. I'm bothered myself--and
such a little thing."

"What is it?"

"Oh nothing, not even a rumor. You cannot do anything about it. I don't
know why I should tell you. But I will." And she paused a moment,
looking down in an innocent perplexity. "It's just this: I am on the
Foundlings' Board with Mrs. Schuyler Blunt, and I don't know her, and you
can't think how awkward it is having to meet her every week in that stiff
kind of way." She did not go on to confide to Jack how she had intrigued
to get on the board, and how Mrs. Schuyler Blunt, in the most well-bred
manner