s drawing-rooms, among plushes, mirrors,
damasks, satins, and gold.

From the gates of the mansion, the rumble of a carriage went
forth, grew faint in the street, and was lost in the distance.
The master of the mansion was in that carriage which sank in the
uproar of the city, to return, barely, at daybreak. A quarter of
an hour passed, Cara did not return. Maybe she went to her
mother? Another quarter of an hour. Miss Mary rose up, took a
small candlestick in her hand with a candle, which she lighted to
use in her wandering through the series of drawing-rooms. But
among the soft folds of cretonne and muslin the lofty door,
ornamented with gilded arabesques and borders, opened slowly, and
Cara walked into the chamber holding Puffie at her bosom. Her
face was so bent that the lower part of it was hidden in the
silky coat of the little animal. Miss Mary, sitting down again,
inquired:

"Where were you, Cara, after your father went away? With mamma?"

In answer, a few steps from the door, the sound of a fall was
heard. That was Puff, he had dropped from her arms to the floor.
She had let him slip down along her dress. Cara had never treated
her favorite with such indifference, or so carelessly. Leaning
forward, Miss Mary fixed her eyes on the young girl. Oh, my God!
What has happened? Who can tell, but something has happened, that
is certain. Cara's cheeks, recalling usually the leaves of a full
rose, were as white as the soft muslin covering her chamber, and
her lips, always scarlet, formed a barely visible line, pale and
narrow. Tall, slender, and erect, without the slightest movement
of hand or head, with dry eyes looking somewhere into remoteness,
she passed through the room, and with automatic movement dropped
into a low chair near Miss Mary, who touched her hand and felt
the cold of ice in it.

"What is the matter, my dear? Are you ill?"

Instead of giving an answer Cara rose and went to the cluster of
green plants at the window. With her shoulders turned toward Miss
Mary, she seemed to be looking at the plants; but, after a few
minutes, she turned, and making some steps stopped, with her eyes
fixed on the floor.

"Cara, come to me!" cried Miss Mary.

She went, and sat down at her side. The English girl looked at
her sharply, and asked in a low voice:

"Have you met anything disagreeable? Or anyone? Or has anyone--"

She did not finish, for the delicate, pale face turned from her
with quick movement, and