ow, for I saw that for
some reason or other Donna Antonia did not mean to let me pump Johnny
Carr, and I wanted to pump him.

"Don't say another word, Mr. Carr," she said, with a laugh. "You know
you don't know anything, do you?"

"Good Lord, no!" said Johnny.

Meanwhile Mme. Devarges was giving me a cup of tea. As she handed it
to me, she said in a low voice:

"If I were his friend I should take care Johnny didn't know anything,
Mr. Martin."

"If I were his friend I should take care he told me what he knew, Mme.
Devarges," I replied.

"Perhaps that's what the colonel thinks," she said. "Johnny has just
been telling us how very attentive he has become. And the signorina
too, I hear."

"You don't mean that?" I exclaimed. "But, after all, pure kindness, no
doubt!"

"You have received many attentions from those quarters," she said. "No
doubt you are a good judge of the motives."

"Don't, now don't be disagreeable," said I. "I came here for peace."

"Poor young man! have you lost all your money? Is it possible that
you, like Don Antonio, haven't got a--"

"What is going to happen?" I asked, for Mme. Devarges often had
information.

"I don't know," she said. "But if I owned national bonds, I should
sell."

"Pardon me, madame; you would offer to sell."

She laughed.

"Ah! I see my advice comes too late."

I did not see any need to enlighten her farther. So I passed on to
Donna Antonia, who had sat somewhat sulkily since her outburst. I sat
down by her and said:

"Surely I haven't offended you?"

"You know you wouldn't care if you had," she said, with a reproachful
but not unkind glance. "Now, if it were the signorina--"

I never object to bowing down in the temple of Rimmon, so I said:

"Hang the signorina!"

"If I thought you meant that," said Donna Antonia, "I might be able to
help you."

"Do I want help?" I asked.

"Yes," said she.

"Then suppose I do mean it?"

Donna Antonia refused to be frivolous. With a look of genuine distress
she said:

"You will not let your real friends save you, Mr. Martin. You know you
want help. Why don't you consider the state of your affairs?"

"In that, at least, my friends in Whittingham are very ready to help
me," I answered, with some annoyance.

"If you take it in that way," she replied sadly, "I can do nothing."

I was rather touched. Clearly she wished to be of some use to me, and
for a moment I thought I might do better to tear myself free from