ned. A brass-and-glass lantern contained the electric light
in the chamber; it shone softly on all the apparatus of toilet and
slumber, and upon the picture that was Mr. Baruch's chief work of art
the marble-white face thrown into high relief by the unbound black
hair and the colors, like a tangle of softened and subdued rainbows,
that flowed from her bosom to the foot of the bed. He crossed the
floor and bent and kissed her where she lay.

"Wonderful!" he said to her. "You are a question, an eternal
question. And here" his hand moved on the surface of the rug like a
caress "is the answer to you. Two perfect things two perfect things!"

"Blessings!" she murmured.

"I have them," he said; "two of them," and he laughed and left her.

He did not see Miss Pilgrim the following day or the next; that was
easy for him to contrive, for much of his business was done outside
his office. It was not that he had any fear of meeting her; but it
was more agreeable to his feelings not to be reminded of her part in
the acquisition of the carpet. Upon the third day, he was late in
arriving, for his wife had complained at breakfast of headache and
sickness, and he had stayed to comfort her and see her back to bed
for a twenty-four hours' holiday from life. On his way he had stopped
at a florist's to send her back some flowers.'

He was barely seated at his desk when there was a knock upon his door
and Miss Pilgrim entered.

He smiled his usual pleasant welcome at her.

"Ah, Miss Pilgrim, good morning, I am glad to see you. You will sit
down yes?"

He was rising to give her a chair he was not in the least afraid of
her when something about her arrested him, a trouble, a note of
sorrow.

"Mr. Baruch" she began.

He knew the value of the deft interruption that breaks the thread of
thought.

"There is something not right?" he suggested. "I hope not." With a
manner of sudden concern, he added: "The poor man, he is worse no?"

Miss Pilgrim showed him a stricken face and eyes brimming with tears.

"He's, he's dead!" she quavered.

"See, now!" said Mr. Baruch, shocked. "What a sad thing and after all
your kind treatment! I am sorry, Miss Pilgrim; but it is to remember
that the poor man has come here through much hardship yes? And at the
least, you have given him back his rug to comfort him."

"But" Miss Pilgrim stayed his drift of easy, grave speech with a sort
of cry "that's the cause of all the trouble and danger and you only