est in the dead little
town so far away.

CHAPTER 9

"Sing it again, dear. I know you are tired, but I want to hear that
song just once more. Somehow it seems to bring up thoughts of--of
things that might have been." The Beaubien's voice sank to a whisper
as she finished.

Carmen laughed happily and prepared to repeat the weird lament which
had so fascinated the Reverend Doctor Jurges a few days before.

"I--I don't know why that song affects me so," mused the Beaubien,
when the girl had finished and returned to the seat beside her. Then,
abruptly: "I wish you could play the pipe-organ out in the hall. I put
twelve thousand dollars into it, and I can't even play five-finger
exercises on it."

"Twelve thousand dollars!" exclaimed Carmen, drawing a long breath,
while her eyes dilated.

The woman laughed. "Would that buy your beloved Simiti?" she asked.
"Well, you poor, unsophisticated girl, suppose we just go down there
and buy the whole town. It would at least give me an interest in life.
Do you think I could stand the heat there? But tell me more about it.
How did you live, and what did you do? And who is this Jose? And are
you really descended from the old Incas?"

They were alone in the darkened music room, and the soft-stepping,
liveried butler had just set the tea table before them, At one end of
the long room a cheery fire snapped and crackled in the huge
fireplace, tempering the sharpness of the early spring day and casting
a ruddy glow upon the tapestried walls and polished floor in front,
where dozed the Beaubien's two "babies," Japanese and Pekingese
spaniels of registered pedigree and fabulous value. Among the heavy
beams of the lofty ceiling grotesque shadows danced and flickered,
while over the costly rugs and rare skins on the floor below subdued
lights played in animated pantomime. Behind the magnificent grand
piano a beautifully wrought harp reflected a golden radiance into the
room. Everything in the woman's environment was softened into the same
degree of voluptuousness which characterized her and the life of
sybaritic ease which she affected.

From the moment Carmen entered the house she had been charmed,
fascinated, overpowered by the display of exhaustless wealth and
the rich taste exhibited in its harmonious manifestation. The
Hawley-Crowles home had seemed to her the epitome of material
elegance and comfort, far exceeding the most fantastic concepts of her
childish imagination,