uous. You forget we are not so important to
other people as we are to you. The months will soon pass, and we shall
be together again in some delightful place, and you will write your
novel and become famous, and then--"

Her husband lifted to his lips the hand he held, just as he used to do
when he was her gallant young lover, a dozen years ago. "For your sake I
wish I might. If only I had half your cheerful courage," he said,
adding, "I hope Frances will grow up to be exactly like you."

"She is exactly like you, Jack, I am happy to say."

As they sat in silence the song of the Spectacle Man kept repeating
itself in Mrs. Morrison's mind, and it suggested to her the broken
bridge which separated Jack from so much that might have been his. Would
it ever be mended?

CHAPTER FIFTH.

SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES.

"I am as sorry as I can be that you are going away, I shall miss you so
much;" said Mrs. Gray to Frances and her mother when they came in to
tell her about their plans for the winter.

Their rooms were across the hall from hers, and the acquaintance had
begun in the elevator, where they often met on the way to the dining
room. The old lady was somewhat crippled with rheumatism and moved about
with difficulty, so her life was rather a lonely one; and it had given
her a great deal of pleasure to have Mrs. Morrison and her little girl
drop in every now and then to chat with her and bring her books and
papers. Then she could never sufficiently express her gratitude to
Frances for taking her glasses to be mended.

"If I hadn't, I might never have known the Spectacle Man, and we
shouldn't have found our flat, so I am much obliged to _you_," Frances
said, laughing, when Mrs. Gray went over it all for the tenth time, more
or less.

"Then perhaps you would have stayed here for the winter. I am sorry I
let you go," was her answer.

"We'll often run in to see you, Mrs. Gray, and sometime you may be able
to come to see us," said Mrs. Morrison; adding, "we haven't many
friends, you know."

Mrs. Gray shook her head. "I can't get out any more; but as for friends,
you'll find them wherever you go."

Gladys did not approve of the move, and frankly expressed her opinion.
"It is such a funny old house, in between the stores. I shouldn't think
you would want to live there," she said.

"But you don't know how nice it is inside," Frances urged. "It is going
to be such fun; and Mr. Clark has some lovely things and the