ck, warning touch upon his arm from
Myrna.

Steps came running across the hall--and the next moment Jean himself
was standing in the doorway.

"_Tiens_!" he cried out gaily. "It is the first time I have left the
studio. I would not let the man announce me. _Me voici_! Here I am!
It is a surprise--eh? But--eh!--what is the matter?" He stared at the
three--at Henry Bliss, who was evidencing palpable confusion; at Myrna,
who seemed suddenly to have lost her colour; at Father Anton, who had
tears trickling down his face, and acted as though he were gazing at a
ghost.

"It--it is Jean!" faltered Father Anton nervously, the letter
fluttering from his hand to the floor.

"But, yes, of course, it is Jean! Who else?" Jean laughed--and
stepped forward mechanically to pick up the paper. "Permit me. I--"

A dainty satin-slippered toe was covering the letter. Myrna was
smiling reprovingly.

"It is quite time enough for you to be gallant, Jean, when you can do
so without the danger of reopening your wound!" she said sweetly.
"Have you not been told often enough that you are not to stoop down
like that? Father Anton is much better able than you to pick it up!"

"Yes, yes," said Father Anton hurriedly, reaching for the paper and
tucking it into the breast of his _soutane_. "Yes, you--you must be
careful of yourself, Jean."

"Nonsense!" declared Jean. "I am perfectly recovered!" He stared at
the three in turn again for a moment. "But--but perhaps I am
intruding--_de trop_?"

"Not at all!" Myrna answered composedly. "It is a matter that concerns
only father and Monsieur le Cure; and they"--she glanced brightly at
her father--"I am sure, will be only too glad to get away to father's
den where they can discuss it by themselves."

"Yes--er--yes, of course," coughed Henry Bliss. "It's--er--good to see
you out again, Jean, my boy." Then jocularly, in an attempt to
disguise his self-consciousness: "Come along, Father Anton"--he caught
the other's arm, and led the cure out of the room--"there are perhaps
others who prefer to be by themselves."

A slightly puzzled expression on his face, Jean watched them out of
sight across the hall; then turned inquiringly to Myrna.

Myrna's shoulders lifted daintily.

"If it isn't one thing, it's another," she said, as though the subject
bored her. "There has always been something or other ever since father
started that fund of his; and the cure trots to father with everyt