aste of time need never have happened." She set her mistake right
with admirable brevity and directness. "Don't distress yourself, Mr.
Le Frank. Now my name is on it, the Song is mine. If your publisher's
account is not satisfactory--be so good as to send it to _me."_ Mr. Le
Frank dropped his dry handkerchief, and sprang theatrically to his feet.
His indulgent patroness refused to hear him: to this admirable woman,
the dignity of Art was a sacred thing. "Not a word more on that
subject," she said. "Tell me how you prospered last night. Your
investigations cannot have been interrupted, or I should have heard
of it. Come to the result! Have you found anything of importance in my
niece's room?"

Mr. Le Frank had again been baffled, so far as the confirmation of
his own suspicions was concerned. But the time was not favourable to a
confession of personal disappointment. He understood the situation; and
made himself the hero of it, in three words.

"Judge for yourself," he said--and held out the letter of warning from
Father Patrizio.

In silence, Mrs. Gallilee read the words which declared her to be the
object of Teresa's inveterate resentment, and which charged Carmina with
the serious duty of keeping the peace.

"Does it alarm you?" Mr. Le Frank asked.

"I hardly know what I feel," she answered. "Give me time to think."

Mr. Le Frank went back to his chair. He had reason to congratulate
himself already: he had shifted to other shoulders the pecuniary
responsibility involved in the failure of his Song. Observing Mrs.
Gallilee, he began to see possibilities of a brighter prospect still.
Thus far she had kept him at a certain distance. Was the change of
mind coming, which would admit him to the position (with all its solid
advantages) of a confidential friend?

She suddenly took up Father Patrizio's letter, and showed it to him.

"What impression does it produce on you," she asked, "knowing no more
than you know now?"

"The priest's cautious language, madam, speaks for itself. You have an
enemy who will stick at nothing."

She still hesitated to trust him.

"You see me here," she went on, "confined to my room; likely, perhaps,
to be in this helpless condition for some time to come. How would you
protect yourself against that woman, in my place?"

"I should wait."

"For what purpose?"

"If you will allow me to use the language of the card-table, I should
wait till the woman shows her hand."

"She _has_ sho