which made Mrs. Crawford wonder a little, as she had never
credited him with much sympathy for anything outside his own family. 'I
cannot see her go to the poor-house, and I cannot well take her into my
family, as we have three children of our own. But I have made up my mind
to care for her, and I have come to ask if, for a compensation, you will
keep her here?'

'Yes, grandma--say yes!' Harold cried; while Jerry, with her mouth full
of cookie, repeated, 'ay 'ess.'

'You see, the children plead for me,' Mr. Tracy said, with a smile at
the little girl, whose hand just then swept back the hair from her eyes,
which looked steadily at him as he went on: 'While she is young--say,
until she is ten years old--I will pay you three dollars a week, and
after that more, if necessary. I know you will be kind to her, and that
she will be happy here and well brought up. Is it a bargain?'

Mrs. Crawford had never seen him so interested in anything and felt
somewhat surprised and puzzled, but she expressed her willingness to
take the child and do what she could for her.

'It will be a good thing for Harold,' she said, 'as he is in danger of
growing selfish here alone with me.'

And so Jerry's future was settled, and counting out twelve dollars,
Frank handed them to Mrs. Crawford, saying:

'I will pay you for four weeks in advance, as you may need the money,
and--and--perhaps--' His face grew very red as he stammered on, 'perhaps
it may be as well not to tell how much I pay you. People--or
rather--well, Mrs. Tracy might think it strange, and not understand why
I feel such an interest in the child. I don't understand it myself.'

But he did understand, and his knees were shaking under him as, when the
transaction was over, and he was on his way to the Park, he felt that he
had sold himself to Satan.

'And yet I know nothing for sure,' he kept repeating to himself. 'Arthur
is expecting Gretchen, whoever she may be. He says he has written to
her, and he has one of his presentiments that she is coming on the night
when this woman arrives, who is no more like the Gretchen he raves about
than I am. This woman has a child. He says Gretchen has none, and that
he never saw this woman. And yet I find among the things a photograph
exactly like the picture in the window, and also like the child, who
certainly bears a resemblance to my brother, though no one else,
perhaps, would see it. Now, sir,' he appeared to be addressing himself
to so