honesty and brutality were possible in English families of
decent position. Her husband deserted her, her brother robbed her, her
sister-in-law libelled her,--the whole story is nauseating!'

'You're quite sure that she tells you the truth?'

Malkin glared with sudden resentment.

'The truth? What! you also desire to calumniate her? For shame,
Earwaker! A poor widow toiling to support herself in a foreign country,
with two children dependent on her.'

'Yes, yes, yes; but you seem to know very little of her.'

'I know her perfectly, and all her circumstances!'

Mrs. Jacox was the mother of the two girls whom Malkin had escorted to
Rouen, after an hour or so of all but casual acquaintance. She and her
history had come in a very slight degree under the notice of certain
good-natured people with whom Malkin was on friendly terms, and hearing
that the children, Bella and Lily, aged fourteen and twelve
respectively, were about to undertake alone a journey to the Continent,
the erratic hero felt it incumbent upon him to see them safe at their
mother's side. Instead of returning forthwith, he lingered in Normandy
for several weeks, striking off at length, on the summons of a friend,
to Orleans, whence he was only to-day returned. Two or three letters
had kept Earwaker informed of his movements. Of Mrs. Jacox he wrote as
he now spoke, with compassionate respect, and the girls, according to
him, were exquisite models of budding maidenhood.

'You haven't told me,' said Earwaker, calmly fronting the indignant
outburst, 'what her circumstances are--at present.'

'She assists an English lady in the management of a boardinghouse,'
Malkin replied, with an air which forbade trivial comment. 'Bella and
Lily will of course continue their studies. I daresay I shall run over
now and then to see them.'

'May I, without offence, inquire if either of these young ladies seems
suitable for the ideal training of which you spoke?'

Malkin smiled thoughtfully. He stood with his legs apart and stroked
his blond beard.

'The surmise is not unnatural. Well, I confess that Bella has inspired
me with no little interest. She is rather mature, unfortunately; I wish
she had been Lily's age. We shall see; we shall see.'

Musing, he refilled his pipe, and gossip was prolonged till something
after one o'clock. Malkin was never known to retire willingly from an
evening's congenial talk until the small hours were in progress.

Peak, on reaching h