ink mother will let me go, Miss Dexter?"

Miss Dexter looked down.

"Why should your mother object?" she said.

"But it's so sudden."

"Yes, it's very sudden," said Molly, in a low voice.

"I can hardly keep quiet; I don't know how to get through the time till
six o'clock, and mother can't be at home till then."

Molly turned back into the room; her face was very white. There were
white dents in her nostrils, and there was a bitter smile on her lips.
Whatever she might have said was stopped in the utterance. The
parlourmaid had come into the room, and now, coming up to Molly, said in
a low voice:

"There is a gentleman asking if Miss Dexter will see him on important
business; he says he is a doctor, and that he has come from Italy."

Molly frowned.

"What is his name?"

"It sounded like Laccaroni, ma'am."

"Show him up."

"Well, I'm off," said the young visitor, and, still entirely absorbed in
her own affairs, she took Molly's limp hand and left the room.

A spare man with a pale face and rather good eyes was announced as "Dr.
Laccaroni." "Larrone," he corrected gently. He carried a small old tin
despatch box, and looked extremely dusty.

"I am the bearer of sad tidings," he said in English, with a fair
accent, in a dry staccato voice. "It was better not to telegraph, as I
was to come at once."

"You attended my mother?"

"Yes, until two nights ago. That was the end."

"Did she suffer?"

"For a few hours, yes; and there was also some brain
excitement--delirium. In an interval that appeared to be lucid (but I
was not quite sure) she told me to come to you, mademoiselle, quite as
soon as she was dead, and she gave me money and this little box to bring
to you. She said more than once, 'It shall be her own affair.' The key
is in this sealed envelope. Afterwards twice she spoke to me: 'Don't
forget,' and then the rest was raving. But the last two hours were
peace."

"And where is my mother to be buried?"

"Madame will be cremated, and her ashes placed in an urn in the garden,
mademoiselle, in a fine mausoleum, with just her name, 'Justine,' and
the dates--no more. Madame told me that these were her wishes."

"Do you know what is in this box?"

"Not at all, and I incline to think there may be nothing: the mind was
quite confused. And yet I could only calm her by promising to come at
once, and so I came, and if mademoiselle will permit I should like to
retire to my hotel."

"Can I be of any use