fted them out for her, and after them a pair of velvet slippers,
soiled, as if they had been through muddy roads. I did not utter a
remark. Beneath these lay a handsome watch and chain, a fine diamond
ring, and five sovereigns lying loose in the box.

"That is all the money I have in the world," she said, sadly.

I laid the five sovereigns in her small, white hand, and she turned them
over, one after another, with a pitiful look on her face. I felt foolish
enough to cry over them myself.

"Dr. Martin," was her unexpected question after a long pause, "do you
know what became of my hair?"

"Why?" I asked, looking at her fingers running through the short curls
we had left her.

"Because that ought to be sold for something," she said. "I am almost
glad you had it cut off. My hair-dresser told me once he would give five
guineas for a head of hair like mine, it was so long and the color was
uncommon. Five guineas would not be half enough to pay you though, I
know."

She spoke so simply and quietly, that I did not attempt to remonstrate
with her about her anxiety to pay me.

"Tardif has it," I said; "but of course he will give it you back again.
Shall I sell it for you, mam'zelle?"

"Oh, that is just what I could not ask you!" she exclaimed. "You see
there is no one to buy it here, and I hope it may be a long time before
I go away. I don't know, though; that depends upon whether I can dispose
of my things. There is my seal-skin, it cost twenty-five guineas last
year, and it ought to be worth something. And my watch--see what a nice
one it is. I should like to sell them all, every one. Then I could stay
here as long as the money lasted."

"How much do you pay here?" I inquired, for she had taken me so far into
counsel that I felt justified in asking that question.

"A pound a week," she answered.

"A pound a week!" I repeated, in amazement. "Does Tardif know that?"

"I don't think he does," she said. "When I had been here a week I gave
Mrs. Tardif a sovereign, thinking perhaps she would give me a little out
of it. I am not used to being poor, and I did not know how much I ought
to pay. But she kept it all, and came to me every week for more. Was it
too much to pay?"

"Too much!" I said. "You should have spoken to Tardif about it, my poor
child."

"I could not talk to Tardif about his mother," she answered. "Besides,
it would not have been too much if I had only had plenty. But it has
made me so anxious. I did