arked restraint in her manner when he came in for luncheon, and
Carlotta, with the sensitiveness which makes children so quick to
recognize the moods of their elders, was sitting on the couch, finger
in mouth, and with widely opened eyes, which threatened tears.

"Tom, I must have a talk with you," said Elizabeth, her voice
trembling a little as he looked inquiringly from one to the other.

"Have you two had a falling out?" he asked, laughing, but Elizabeth's
expression checked his merriment.

"No, but I will tell you just what has happened, and then I want an
explanation. Let me speak without interruption, and then I will hear
what you have to say." He took off his coat and sat down without
speaking, and Elizabeth faced him.

"The Italian woman who cleans this place came in this morning with her
mop and pail, and Carlotta commenced chattering with her at once, and
the woman laughed, so that I asked her what she was saying. She told
me that Carlotta said she looked like her mother, and that she had the
same kind of mop and pail. Of course, judging from the appearance and
expensive clothing of the child, she thought it was absurd; but I got
her to question Carlotta for me, and she persisted in her story, and
described their home, which seems to consist of two overcrowded rooms
on Mulberry Street." She paused, and Tom looked at her with no trace
of embarrassment.

"Well, what of it?" he asked, defiantly. "The child was telling the
truth, and there is no reason to punish her."

"Punish her!" exclaimed Elizabeth, taken aback. "It is not a question
of what she has said or done; but of your conduct. Rich Italians do
not live in two rooms on Mulberry Street, and you have deceived me and
humiliated me by using this means to give me money."

"Nothing of the sort," he replied. "I haven't deceived you; although I
will admit that you deceived yourself, and I did not set you right.
The child's father was one of my mother's gardeners in Florence, and
when he decided to bring his large family over here, she gave him a
letter to me. He came to my office the morning after we dined
together, and I went to see his family, and fell in love with Carlotta
at once. The father was delighted to have her portrait painted, and I
thought it would be better to get fresh clothes for such an important
occasion."

"But immigrants are not making advance payments which are more than I
should have charged for a half-dozen portraits, and you have