t
of that awful night--and the poor little babes that I thought I had
killed. If the notice in the paper had not said that I saved their
lives, you never would have heard from me, Mr. Donald. That made me
happier than I ever had been in all my life--mostly for the babies'
sake, though it seemed to lift a load of trouble off my mind."

Several times during the long interview with Elise Rene, Donald found
himself wondering how he could manage, without hurting her pride, to
give her the money which she evidently needed. For she was no pauper,
and her bright, dark eyes showed that time and trouble had not by any
means quenched her spirit. The idea of receiving charity would shock
her, he knew; but an inspiration came to him. He would not reward her
himself, but he would act for Dorothy.

"Madame Rene," he said, with some hesitation, "if my sister had known I
was coming here to talk face to face with the friend who had saved her
life, I know what she would have done: she would have sent you her
grateful love and--and something to remember her by; something as she
would say, 'perfectly lovely.' I know she would."

Madame had already begun to frown, on principle, but the thought of
Dorry softened her, as Donald went on: "I know she would, but I don't
know what to do about it. I'd buy exactly the wrong article, if I were
trying to select. The fact is, you'll have to buy it yourself."

With these words, Donald handed Elise Rene a roll of bank-notes.

"Oh, Mr. Donald!" she exclaimed, with much emotion, "I can't take
this--indeed I cannot!"

"Oh, Madame Rene, but indeed you can," he retorted, laughing. "And now,"
he added hastily (to prevent her from protesting any longer), "I am not
going to inflict myself upon you for the entire day. You must be very
tired; and, besides, after you are rested, we must decide upon the next
thing to be done. I have cabled to my uncle, and there is no doubt that
he will send word for you to come with me at once to America. Now,
surely, you'll go? Please say that you will. I'll wait a week or two,
for you."

Elise hesitated.

"It would be a great joy," she said, "to go to America and to see
little Dorothy. She is a great deal more to me--and so are you, Mr.
Donald--than one would think; for, though you were both too young to be
very interesting when I was your _bonne_, I have thought and dreamed so
often of you in all these long years, and of what you both might have
lived to be if I had no