sat down
in the chair and for a little while she was silent.

"Suppose we do find them," she said suddenly. "What shall we do with
them?" She looked up at me questioningly, seriously. "Is it likely that
your Mr. Temple will be reconciled with his mother? Is it likely that he
is still in love with Antoinette?"

"I think it is likely that he is still in love with Mademoiselle de St.
Gre," I answered, "though I have no reason for saying so."

"You are very honest, Mr. Ritchie. We must look at this problem from all
sides. If he is not reconciled with his mother, Antoinette will not
receive him. And if he is, we have the question to consider whether he
is still worthy of her. The agents of Providence must not be heedless,"
she added with a smile.

"I am sure that Nick would alter his life if it became worth living," I
said. "I will answer for that much."

"Then he must be reconciled with his mother," she replied with decision.
"Mrs. Temple has suffered enough. And he must be found before he gets
sufficiently into the bad graces of the Baron de Carondelet,--these two
things are clear." She rose. "Come here to-morrow evening at the same
time."

She started quickly for the bedroom door, but something troubled me
still.

"Madame--" I said.

"Yes," she answered, turning quickly.

I did not know how to begin. There were many things I wished to say, to
know, but she was a woman whose mind seemed to leap the chasms, whose
words touched only upon those points which might not be understood. She
regarded me with seeming patience.

"I should think that Mrs. Temple might have recognized you," I said, for
want of a better opening.

"From the miniature?" she said.

I flushed furiously, and it seemed to burn me through the lining of my
pocket.

"That was my salvation," she said. "Mrs. Temple has never seen the
miniature. I have heard how you rescued it, Mr. Ritchie," she added,
with a curious smile. "Monsieur Philippe de St. Gre told me."

"Then he knew?" I stammered.

She laughed.

"I have told you that you are a very simple person," she said. "Even you
are not given to intrigues. I thank you for rescuing me."

I flushed more hotly than before.

"I never expected to see you," I said.

"It must have been a shock," she said.

I was dumb. I had my hand in my coat; I fully intended to give her the
miniature. It was my plain duty. And suddenly, overwhelmed, I
remembered that it was wrapped in Polly Ann's silk handke