es they humoured. Meanwhile, there
being no beplacarded and beflagged automobile, there could be no
advertisement; therefore they had no further use for M. Pujol's
services.

"Good," said Aristide, when he reached the evil thoroughfare. "It was a
degraded occupation, and I am glad I am out of it. Meanwhile, here is
Marseilles before me, and it will be astonishing if I do not find some
fresh road to fortune before the day is out."

Aristide tramped and tramped all day through the streets of Marseilles,
but the road he sought he did not find. He returned to Aix in dire
perplexity. He was used to finding himself suddenly cut off from the
means of livelihood. It was his chronic state of being. His gay
resourcefulness had always carried him through. But then there had been
only himself to think of. Now there was Jean. For the first time for
many years the dragon-fly's wings grew limp. Jean--what could he do with
Jean?

Jean had already gone to sleep when he arrived. All day he had been as
good as gold, so Miss Anne declared. For herself, she had spent the
happiest day of her life.

"I don't wonder at your being devoted to him, M. Pujol," she said. "He
has the most loving ways of any baby I ever met."

"Yes, mademoiselle," replied Aristide, with an unaccustomed huskiness in
his voice, "I am devoted to him. It may seem odd for a man to be wrapped
up in a baby of nine months old--but--it's like that. It's true. _Je
l'adore de tout mon coeur, de tout mon etre_," he cried, in a sudden
gust of passion.

Miss Anne smiled kindly, not dreaming of his perplexity, amused by his
Southern warmth. Miss Janet joined them in the hall. They went in to
dinner, Aristide sitting at the central _table d'hote_, the ladies at a
little table by themselves. After dinner they met again outside the
hotel, and drank coffee and talked the evening away. He was not as
bright a companion as on the night before. His gaiety was forced. He
talked about everything else in the world but Jean. The temptation to
pour his financial troubles into the sympathetic ears of these two dear
women he resisted. They regarded him as on a social equality, as a man
of means engaged in some sort of business at Marseilles; they had
invited him to bring Jean to see them at Chislehurst when he should
happen to be in England again. Pride forbade him to confess himself a
homeless, penniless vagabond. The exquisite charm of their frank
intimacy would be broken. Besides, what