d no thought of trespassing upon him in any way."

"Mr. Temple, we were so sure of that--Mr. Ritchie and I--that we should
not have sought for you here otherwise," she replied quickly. Then she
glanced at me as though seeking my approval for her next move. It was
characteristic of her that she did not now shirk a task imposed by her
sense of duty. "We have little time, Mr. Temple, and much to say.
Perhaps you will excuse us, Lamarque," she added graciously, in French.

"Madame la Vicomtesse!" said the old man. And, with the tact of his
race, he bowed and retired. The Vicomtesse seated herself on one of the
rude chairs, and looked at Nick curiously. There was no such thing as
embarrassment in her manner, no trace of misgiving that she would not
move properly in the affair. Knowing Nick as I did, the difficulty of
the task appalled me, for no man was likelier than he to fly off at a
misplaced word.

Her beginning was so bold that I held my breath, knowing full well as I
did that she had chosen the very note.

"Sit down, Mr. Temple," she said. "I wish to speak to you about your
mother."

He stopped like a man who had been struck, straightened, and stared at
her as though he had not taken her meaning. Then he swung on me.

"Your mother is in New Orleans," I said. "I would have told you in
Louisville had you given me the chance."

"It is an interesting piece of news, David," he answered, "which you
might have spared me. Mrs. Temple did not think herself necessary to my
welfare when I was young, and now I have learned to live without her."

"Is there no such thing as expiation, Monsieur?" said the Vicomtesse.

"Madame," he said, "she made me what I am, and when I might have redeemed
myself she came between me and happiness."

"Monsieur," said the Vicomtesse, "have you ever considered her
sufferings?"

He looked at the Vicomtesse with a new interest. She was not so far
beyond his experience as mine.

"Her sufferings?" he repeated, and smiled.

"Madame la Vicomtesse should know them," I interrupted; and without
heeding her glance of protest I continued, "It is she who has cared for
Mrs. Temple."

"You, Madame!" he exclaimed.

"Do not deny your own share in it, Mr. Ritchie," she answered. "As for
me, Monsieur," she went on, turning to Nick, "I have done nothing that
was not selfish. I have been in the world, I have lived my life,
misfortunes have come upon me too. My visits to your mother have been to
me a com