th, Kenneth
McVeigh, to whose estate the girl was partly sold, could certainly
afford more of recompense than his guardian had agreed to.

Pluto told that portion of the story implicating his master with
considerable reluctance, yet felt forced to tell it all, that Monroe
should be impressed with the necessity of absolute secrecy to every
one except Madame Caron, and she, of course, must not hear that part
of it.

"Name o' God, no!" burst out Pluto, in terror of what such a
revelation would mean. "What yo' reckon Madame Caron think o' we all
ef she done heah _that_? Don't reckon his own ma evah heard tell a
whisper o' that ar; all Mahs Matt Loring's doin's, that sale
was--_must_ a been! Mahs Ken wan't only a boy then--not more'n
fifteen, so yo' see--"

Monroe made no comment, though he also had a vision of what it would
mean if Madame Caron--she of all women!--should hear this evidently
true story just as Pluto related it.

He walked along the rose hedge and back again in silence, the colored
man regarding him anxiously; finally he said:

"All right, my man. I'll speak to Madame and be careful not to tell
her too much. You are all right, Pluto; you did right to come to me."

Some one called Pluto from the window. He was about to go when Monroe
asked:

"What about that picture you said your wife had of the girl? Madame
Caron may not be easy to convince. You'd better let me have it to show
her. Is it a good likeness?"

"'Fore God I don' know! I only reckon it is, 'cause Nelse took her,
on sight, fo' Margeret's ghost, which shows it must be the plain image
of her! I done been so upset since I got back home with Zekal I nevah
had a minute to look ovah Rosa's b'longens', but the likeness is in
that bundle somewhere; Rosa alles powerful careful o' that locket
thing, an' kep' it put away; don't mind as I evah seen it but once,
jest when we fust married. I'd a clean fo'got all 'bout it, only fo'
an accident--an' that's the woman now it was painted from."

He pointed to a window where Margeret stood outlined for an instant
against the bright background.

"Don't look more like her now, I reckon," he continued, "all her
trouble must a' changed her mightily, fo' the ole folks do say she was
counted a beauty once. Little Rhoda went a'most crazy when some one
stole the locket, so Rosa said; then by and by the gal what took it
got scared--thought it was a hoodoo--an' fetched it back, but Rhoda
gone away then. My Rosa too