lyth touched her shoulder gaily, and, after placing the drawing
again under the coverlet, made her look up, while signing these words;

"I shall give the drawing to Zack very soon after he comes in. It is
sure to make him happy for the rest of the evening, and fonder of you
than ever."

Madonna's eyes followed Mrs. Blyth's fingers eagerly to the last
letter they formed; then rose softly to her face with the same wistful
questioning look which they had assumed before Valentine, years and
years ago, when he first interfered to protect her in the traveling
circus. There was such an irresistible tenderness in the faint smile
that wavered about her lips; such a sadness of innocent beauty in
her face, now growing a shade paler than it was wont to be, that Mrs.
Blyth's expression became serious the instant their eyes met. She drew
the girl forward and kissed her. The kiss was returned many times, with
a passionate warmth and eagerness remarkably at variance with the usual
gentleness of all Madonna's actions. What had changed her thus? Before
it was possible to inquire or to think, she had broken away from the
kind arms that were round her, and was kneeling with her face hidden in
the pillows that lay over the head of the couch.

"I must quiet her directly. I ought to make her feel that this is
wrong," said Mrs. Blyth to herself; looking startled and grieved as
she withdrew her hand wet with tears, after trying vainly to raise
the girl's face from the pillows. "She has been thinking too much
lately--too much about that drawing; too much, I am afraid, about Zack."

Just at that moment Mr. Blyth opened the door. Feeling the slight shock,
as he let it bang to after entering, Madonna instantly started up and
ran to the fireplace. Valentine did not notice her when he came in.

He bustled about the neighborhood of the Dying Gladiator, talking
incessantly, arranging his port-crayons by the drawing-boards, and
trimming the lamps that lit the model. Mrs. Blyth cast many an anxious
look towards the fireplace. After the lapse of a few minutes Madonna
turned round and came back to the couch. The traces of tears had almost
entirely disappeared from her face. She made a little appealing gesture
that asked Mrs. Blyth to be silent about what had happened while they
were alone; kissed, as a sign that she wished to be forgiven, the
hand that was held out to her; and then sat down quietly again in her
accustomed place.

At the same moment a