tenderest entreaty.

"Not to-night," she answered. He attempted a faint remonstrance. Madame
Fontaine knew perfectly well how to assert her authority over him--she
gave him another of those tender looks which had already become the charm
of his life. Mr. Engelman sat down on one of the hall chairs completely
overwhelmed. "Dear and admirable woman!" I heard him say to himself
softly.

Taking leave of me in my turn, the widow dropped my hand, struck, to all
appearance, by a new idea.

"I have a favor to ask of you, David," she said. "Do you mind going back
with us?"

As a matter of course I took my hat, and placed myself at her service.
Mr. Engelman got on his feet, and lifted his plump hands in mute and
melancholy protest. "Don't be uneasy," Madame Fontaine said to him, with
a faint smile of contempt. "David doesn't love me!"

I paused for a moment, as I followed her out, to console Mr. Engelman.
"She is old enough to be my mother, sir," I whispered; "and this time, at
any rare, she has told you the truth."

Hardly a word passed between us on our way through the streets and over
the bridge. Minna was sad and silent, thinking of Fritz; and whatever her
mother might have to say to me, was evidently to be said in private.
Arrived at the lodgings, Madame Fontaine requested me to wait for her in
the shabby little sitting-room, and graciously gave me permission to
smoke. "Say good night to David," she continued, turning to her daughter.
"Your poor little heart is heavy to-night, and mamma means to put you to
bed as if you were a child again. Ah! me, if those days could only come
back!"

After a short absence the widow returned to me, with a composed manner
and a quiet smile. The meeting with Mr. Keller seemed to have been
completely dismissed from her thoughts, in the brief interval since I had
seen her last.

"We often hear of parents improving their children," she said. "It is my
belief that the children quite as often improve the parents. I have had
some happy minutes with Minna--and (would you believe it?) I am already
disposed to forgive Mr. Keller's brutality, and to write to him in a tone
of moderation, which must surely have its effect. All Minna's doing--and
my sweet girl doesn't in the least suspect it herself! If you ever have
children of your own, David, you will understand me and feel for me. In
the meantime, I must not detain you by idle talk--I must say plainly what
I want of you." She opened her writ