g together, playing with that and other toys which Martha toddled
off to the cupboard to collect. The child was in great delight. Hadria
was playing with her; she liked that better than having Jean Paul
Auguste to play with. He took her toys away and always wanted to play a
different game.

The clock struck two. Hadria felt that she ought to go and see Madame
Vauchelet; it was more than a week since she had called, and the kind
old friend was always gently pained at an absence of that length.

Then there was an article to finish, and she ought really to write to
Dunaghee and Henriette and--well the rest must wait. Several other calls
were also more than due, but it was useless even to consider those
to-day. In spite of an oppressive sense of having much to do--perhaps
_because_ of it--Hadria felt as if it were a sheer impossibility to rise
from that hearthrug. Besides, Martha would not hear of it. A desire to
rest, to idle, to float down the stream, instead of trying always to
swim against it, became overpowering. The minutes passed away.

"The question is, Martha," Hadria said gravely, as she proceeded to pile
up a towering edifice of bricks, at the child's command, "the question
is: Are we going to stick to our plan, or are we going to be beaten? Oh,
take care, don't pull down the fairy palace! That is a bad trick that
little fingers have. No, no, I must have my fairy palace; I won't have
it pulled down. It is getting so fine, too; minarets and towers, and
domes and pinnacles, all mixed beautifully. Such an architecture as you
never saw! But some day perhaps you will see it. Those blue eyes look as
if they were made for seeing it, in the time to come."

"Pretty eyes!" said Martha with frank vanity, and then: "Pretty house!"

"It is indeed a pretty house; they all are. But they are so horribly
shaky. The minarets are top-heavy, I fear. That's the fault of the
makers of these bricks. They ought to make the solid ones in proper
proportion. But they can't be persuaded."

"Knock it down," said Martha, thrusting forth a mischievous hand, which
was caught in time to prevent entire destruction of the precious
edifice. Half the minarets had fallen.

"They must go up again," said Hadria. "How cruel to spoil all the work
and all the beauty." But Martha laughed with the delight of easy
conquest.

She watched with great interest the reconstruction, and seemed anxious
that every detail should be finished and worthy her icon