ith an
exceedingly friendly smile. The girl looked tired, though her muscles
had relaxed with Electra's going.

"Come here, my dear, and sit down," said the old lady, indicating a
chair. Rose shook her head. Then, as she found herself trembling, she
did sit down, and Madam Fulton laid a hand upon her knee. "You are a
very interesting child," she said, with an approving emphasis. "Now what
in the world made you fall in love with Tom Fulton? Did he seem very
nice to you?"

"I can't talk about him," said Rose. It seemed to her as if now his
shadow might be lifted from her. "It is over. He is dead."

"Of course he's dead. It was the best thing he could do. Well, well, my
dear! What made you come over here and play this little comedy for us?"

The girl's eyes had filled with tears.

"I can't tell you," she answered. It was easy to defend her cause to
Osmond; not to this eager creature who wanted to read her like a curious
book. But Madam Fulton was almost whispering. She looked as if she had
something of the utmost importance to communicate.

"I ask you, my dear, because I am thoroughly bad myself, and it's beyond
me to understand why it's so important whether we are bad or good. And I
thought maybe if you could tell me--did you know you were bad before you
came and Electra found you out?"

Rose was looking kindly into the vivid face.

"No," she said, "I didn't think I was bad."

"That's it!" cried the old lady, in high triumph. "We don't any of us
know it till they find us out. My dear, it's the most awful system--now,
isn't it? You go on as innocent as you please, and suddenly they tell
you you're a criminal. It's as if you made up your mouth to whistle,
walking along the road, and somebody pounces on you and tells you
whistling's against the law and claps you into jail."

Rose was smiling at her now, forgetful, for the moment, of her own coil,
Madam Fulton seemed to her so pathetically young and innocent of
everything save untamed desires.

"What under heavens does it mean?" Madam Fulton was insisting, with the
greatest irritation.

"I must go now," said Rose. "I had to tell you."

Madam Fulton kept the detaining hand upon her knee.

"But where are you going?" she insisted. "Back to France?"

"No, I shall stay in America. I shall sing."

"Do you think anybody'll want to hear you?"

"They'll love to hear me!"

Madam Fulton eyed her smilingly.

"You're a brazen hussy," she said. "But of all things, w