nt to be known. Come, Guy."

She hurried the lad down stairs, and into their little room. The veiled
lady still sat talking to the old woman, her back to the dim daylight,
and that disguising veil still down. She turned slightly at their
entrance, and looked at the boy through it. Guy stood in the middle of
the floor, his fearless blue eyes fixed on the hidden face. Could he
have seen it, he might have started at the grayish pallor which
overspread it at sight of him.

"So like! So like!" the lady was murmuring between her set teeth. "It is
terrible--it is marvellous."

"This is Guy, your ladyship," said Martha Brand. "I've done what I could
for him the last ten years, and, I'm almost as sorry to part with him as
if he were my own. Is your ladyship going to take him away with you
now?"

"No," said her ladyship sharply, "I have no such intention. Have you no
neighbor or friend who would be willing to take and bring him up, if
well paid for the trouble? This time the money will be paid without
fail."

"There's Legard," cried the boy, eagerly. "I'll go to Legard's, granny.
I'd rather be with Joe than anywhere else."

"It's a neighbor that lives up stairs," murmured Martha in explanation.
"He always took to Guy, and Guy to him, in a way that's quite wonderful.
He's a very decent man, your ladyship--a painter for a theatre; and Guy
takes kindly to the business, and would like to be one himself. If you
don't want to take away the boy, you couldn't leave him in better
hands."

"I am glad to hear it. Can I see the man?"

"I'll fetch him," cried Guy, and ran out of the room. Two minutes later
came Mr. Legard, in paper cap and shirt-sleeves, bowing very low to the
grand, black-robed lady, and only too delighted to strike a bargain. The
lady offered liberally--Mr. Legard closed with the offer at once.

"You will clothe him better, and you will educate him, and give him your
name. I wish him to drop that of Vyking. The same amount I give you now
will be sent you this time every year. If you change your residence in
the meantime, or wish to communicate with me in any occurrence of
consequence, you can address Madam Ada, post-office, Plymouth."

She rose as she spoke, stately and tall, and motioned Mr. Legard to
withdraw. The painter gathered up the money she laid on the table, and
bowed himself, with a radiant face, out of the room.

"As for you," turning to old Martha, and taking out of her purse a roll
of crisp, Bank