g to himself.

Beryl abruptly lifted her violin from her lap to put it in the case. As
she did so, its head caught in the string of green beads which, in
honor of the occasion, she was wearing. The slender cord that held them
snapped and the pretty beads scattered over the floor.

"Oh, dear!" cried Beryl, dismayed, dropping to her knees to find them.

Robin helped her search and in a few moments they had gathered them all.

"They're only beads but they're very old and a keepsake," Beryl
explained, in apology for her moment's alarm.

"They're pretty and they're darling on you!"

"A wonderful color." The lawyer took one and examined it. "If you care
for them you'd better let me take them back to New York with me and have
them strung on a wire that will not break."

"Oh, let him, Beryl. And he can have a good clasp put on. You know you
said that clasp was poor."

Beryl hesitated a moment. Ought she to tell him the beads were her
mother's and that her mother prized them dearly? No, he might laugh at
anyone's caring a fig about just plain beads. She took the envelope
Robin brought her, dropped the beads into it, sealed it, and gave it to
Robin's guardian.

Cornelius Allendyce slept little that night. He laid it to the extreme
quiet of the hills; in reality his head whirled with the amazing
impressions that had been forced upon him.

"Extraordinary!" he muttered, staring at the night light. And he
repeated it again and again; once, when he thought of the little
woman, Mrs. Lynch, with the dreaming eyes which seemed to see beyond
things. What was the absurd thing she had said? "'Tis what you give and
not what you get is wealth." Extraordinary! And where had Robin picked
up these notions concerning the Mill people? And her House of
What-did-she-call-it? There was considerable significance about it.
Uncanny, downright uncanny, though, for a girl her age to have such a
far-reaching vision. Probably the child didn't realize, herself. Well,
there was Jeanne d'Arc, and others, too, he pondered, hazily. And this
talented girl Robin had found--a most unusual girl, who'd grown up in a
tenement like a flower among weeds, yes, he'd seen such flowers growing
amid rankest vegetation! She was not unlike Robin, herself. His mind
circled to Robin's own little fifth-floor nest and the horrible odors of
that dark stairway. Strange, extraordinary, that these two lives had
crossed. "This world's a queer world!" Both girls brought up in