oss in which it had lain buried for
long, meaningless years. They now talked but little, this strange
woman and the equally strange girl. Their communion was no longer of
the lips. It was the silent yearning of a dry, desolate heart,
striving to open itself to the love which the girl was sending far and
wide in the quenchless hope that it might meet just such a need. For
Carmen dwelt in the spirit, and she instinctively accepted her
splendid material environment as the gift, not of man, but of the
great divine Mind, which had led her into this new world that she
might be a channel for the expression of its love to the erring
children of mortals.

She came and went quietly, and yet with as much confidence as if the
house belonged to her. At first the Beaubien smiled indulgently. And
then her smile became a laugh of eager joy as she daily greeted her
radiant visitor, whose entrance into the great, dark house was always
followed by a flood of sunshine, and whose departure marked the
setting in of night to the heart-hungry woman. In the first days of
their association the Beaubien could turn easily from the beautiful
girl to the group of cold, scheming men of the world who filled her
evenings and sat about her board. But as days melted into weeks, she
became dimly conscious of an effort attaching to the transition; and
the hour at length arrived when she fully realized that she was facing
the most momentous decision that had ever been evolved by her worldly
mode of living. But that was a matter of slow development through many
months.

Meantime, Mrs. Hawley-Crowles trod the clouds. A week after Carmen
began the study of the organ she boldly ventured to accompany her one
day to the Beaubien citadel. She was graciously received, and departed
with the Beaubien's promise to return the call. Thereupon she set
about revising her own social list, and dropped several names which
she now felt could serve her no longer. Her week-end at Newport, just
prior to her visit to the Elwin school, had marked the close of the
gay season in the city, and New York had entered fully upon its summer
_siesta_. Even the theaters and concert halls were closed, and the
metropolis was nodding its weary head dully and sinking into
somnolence. It was exactly what Mrs. Hawley-Crowles desired. The
summer interim would give her time to further her plans and prepare
the girl for her social _debut_ in the early winter. "And Milady Ames
will be mentioned in