d-board from the floor, and put them into his pocket.

"Father's photograph! She was in here--she came in here to do that! And
she loves that photograph. She loves it!"

"Hush, Signorina! Don't, Signorina--don't!"

"We must do something! We must--"

He made her sit down. He stood by her.

"What shall we do, Gaspare? What shall we do?"

She looked up at him, demanding counsel. She put out her hands again and
touched his arm. His Padroncina--she at least still loved, still trusted
him.

"Signorina," he said, "we can't do anything."

His voice was fatalistic.

"But--what is it? Is--is--"

A frightful question was trembling on her lips. She looked again at the
fragments of card-board in her hand, at the broken frame on the table.

"Can Madre be--"

She stopped. Her terror was increasing. She remembered many small
mysteries in the recent conduct of her mother, many moments when she had
been surprised, or made vaguely uneasy, by words or acts of her mother.
Monsieur Emile, too, he had wondered, and more than once. She knew that.
And Gaspare--she was sure that he, also, had seen that change which now,
abruptly, had thus terribly culminated. Once in the boat she had asked
him what was the matter with her mother, and he had, almost angrily,
denied that anything was the matter. But she had seen in his eyes that
he was acting a part--that he wished to detach her observation from her
mother.

Her trembling ceased. Her little fingers closed more tightly on his arm.
Her eyes became imperious.

"Gaspare, you are to tell me. I can bear it. You know something about
Madre."

"Signorina--"

"Do you think I'm a coward? I was frightened--I am frightened, but I'm
not really a coward, Gaspare. I can bear it. What is it you know?"

"Signorina, we can't do anything."

"Is it--Does Monsieur Emile know what it is?"

He did not answer.

Suddenly she got up, went to the door, opened it, and listened. The
horror came into her face again.

"I can't bear it," she said. "I--I shall have to go into the room."

"No, Signorina. You are not to go in."

"If the door isn't locked I must--"

"It is locked."

"You don't know. You can't know."

"I know it is locked, Signorina."

Vere put her hands to her eyes.

"It's too dreadful! I didn't know any one--I have never heard--"

Gaspare went to her and shut the door resolutely.

"You are not to listen, Signorina. You are not to listen."

He spoke no longer like a servant,