rised to find how
simple it sometimes is to do good. In this case no one had come to him
with a petition or a demand; on the contrary, a note of undeserved
thanks had, with the strange little creature, been presented to him.
It was so pleasantly easy to help a child! There were no _arrieres
pensees_--not that they would have troubled him, but there were none;
there were no wire-pullings, no time infringements, no suggestion or
criticism, no--he believed--expectations. Everything he could do was
so annoyingly little! The charwoman cleaned, Simone had a complete
wardrobe, the larder was full, and there remained nothing but toys to
buy. The little thing was so womanly and capable--he had seen it and
marvelled in their interviews at her age and accomplishments--her hands
were so apt and almost creative, that toys seemed inadequate. She took
her benefits charmingly; rushed over at the least provocation to pour
out her gratitude, and Bulstrode, who hated thanks, liked these.
Childhood, if it had been for sale on the Boulevard, even that he would
have bought Simone if he could! As it was, he found himself pausing
before a series of shops other than chemisiers--florists, and
jewellers'--shops where diminutive objects were displayed--and one
afternoon had been standing ridiculously long in front of a certain
window on the Rue de Rivoli when he was accosted by an agreeable and
familiar voice.

"Jimmy! It isn't possible! don't tell me it has come so cruelly
_soon_?"

The gentleman gave a violent, but an entirely happy start. Well, there
were rewards then for people who didn't follow speeding motors through
France! She was back and in Paris.

"What--has come so soon?" he asked.

Mrs. Falconer, on her way from a hat shop in her automobile, stopped by
his side.

"Why, your second childhood, my dear man. Do you know what shop you
are standing before?"

Bulstrode seemed to be perfectly aware of his dotage and to delight in
it. Behind the big window pane there was a bright and very juvenile
display.

Ships sailed there; dolls hung gaudily and smilingly aloft; giant
parti-colored balls rounded out their harlequin sides; tiny dishes for
pygmy festivals were piled with delicious carrots and artichokes on
little white, blue-rimmed platters.

"Have you a moment to spare?" Bulstrode asked her.

"I have bought all my hats," she replied; "after that a woman's time
hangs heavy on her hands."

"Ah!" he was as radiant as