yes, as if to collect his
thoughts. Again he saw her standing before him in her beauty and with
her haughty ease of manner, and a great sorrow, he knew not why,
overpowered him. Little as he knew of life in the great world, or the
_demi monde_, he was convinced that all was not right with this
enchanted princess, since she merely dwelt like a rare bird in a gilded
cage, no longer her own mistress. Then again when he thought of her
calm, wondering, childish eyes, and of the little proud mouth and the
full lips, which quivered slightly when she was considering an answer
to one of his questions, it seemed impossible to attach a thought of
guilt or depravity to this mysterious life.

His own passion at the moment was completely forgotten in his unselfish
interest in her fate. And yet he did not know much more about her than
he knew an hour before. Not even her name, for it was not on the door.
And from whom could he inquire about her, even if he had not an
instinctive aversion to all underhanded measures?

Just at that moment fortune again befriended him.

A stout middle-aged woman in a bonnet and shawl, with a little basket
on her arm, slowly descended the stairs; it was with evident surprise
that she saw a stranger lingering in the hall, and, with the air of one
responsible for the order of the house, she asked whom he wished to
see. He replied that he had only brought back an article belonging to
the young lady within, which he had found, and that he was just
leaving; then pausing a few steps before her, as she followed him on
foot, he murmured absently: "What a pity!"

At this the woman stopped also, standing with one arm akimbo. "What is
a pity?" she asked. "What do you know about my lodgers, sir, that you
dare to make use of such a sympathizing expression. I beg, sir, to
inform you that there is no one in my house who stands in need of
pity."

"Well," he said frankly, "I meant no harm. But, judging from her
surroundings, the young lady seems to belong to an aristocratic family,
and yet she lives so secludedly; who knows what sad reasons--"

As he spoke he began to descend the steps; the woman, however, stood
still, leaned against the banister, seemingly unable to resist the
temptation to display her superior knowledge of the world.

"Aristocratic?" she said with a slight shrug of the shoulders.
"Gracious me! It's all in her clothes, and Heaven knows how long the
finery will last. I suppose you think the silk c