s, and was debating
whether--his Belgian friend notwithstanding--a stroll along the
river-bank would not be a pleasanter termination to his
evening than a return to the dancing, when he saw a small
figure appear in the hall doorway, stand a moment as is
irresolute, and then come slowly across the courtyard towards
him. As she came near he recognised little Madelon. She pauses
when she was within a yard or two of him, and stood
contemplating him with her hands clasped behind her back.

"So you have come out too," he said.

"_Mais oui--tout ce tapage m'agace les nerfs_," answered the
child, pushing her hair off her forehead with one of her old-
fashioned little gestures, and then standing motionless as
before, her hands behind her, and her eyes fixed on Graham.
Somehow he felt strangely attracted by this odd little child,
with her quaint vehement ways and speeches, who stood gazing
at him with a look half _farouche_, half confiding, in her great
brown eyes.

"Monsieur," she began, at last.

"Well," said Graham.

"Monsieur, I _would_ like to see the little green fish. May I
look at it?"

"To be sure," he answered. "Come here, and I will show it to
you."

"And, Monsieur, I do like _breloques_ very much," continues
Madelon, feeling that this is a moment for confession.

"Very well, then, you can look at all these. See, here is the
little fish to begin with."

"And may I have it in my own hand to look at?" she asked,
willing to come to some terms before capitulating.

"Yes, you shall have it to hold in your own hand, if you will
come here."

She came close to him then, unclasping her hands, and holding
a tiny palm to receive the little trinket.

Horace was engaged in unfastening it from the rest of the
bunch, and whilst doing so he said,

"Will you not tell me your name? Madelon, is it not?"

"My name is Madeleine, but papa and every one call me
Madelon."

"Madeleine what?"

"Madeleine Linders."

"Linders!" cried Horace, suddenly enlightened; "what, is M.
Linders--" the famous gambler he had nearly said, but checked
himself--"is that tall gentleman with a beard, whom I saw in
the salon just now, your papa?"

"Yes, that is my papa. Please may I have that now?"

He put the little flexible toy into her hand, and she stood
gazing at it for a moment, almost afraid to touch it, and then
pushing it gently backwards and forwards with one finger.

"It does move!" she cried delighted. "I never saw one li