from this window. She did not look happy!"

"Not happy!--with such an equipage,--neatest turn-out I ever set eyes
on; not happy, indeed! I had half a mind to ride up to her carriage and
advance a claim to her gratitude."

"Gratitude? Oh, for your part in that miserable affair of which you told
me?"

"Not a miserable affair for her; but certainly I never got any good from
it. Trouble for nothing! _Basta!_ No use looking back."

"No use; but who can help it?" said Arabella Crane, sighing heavily;
then, as if eager to change the subject, she added abruptly, "Mr. Rugge
has been here twice this morning, highly excited the child will not act.
He says you are bound to make her do so!"

"Nonsense. That is his look-out. I see after children, indeed!"

MRS. CRANE (with a visible effort).--"Listen to me, Jasper Losely. I
have no reason to love that child, as you may suppose. But now that you
so desert her, I think I feel compassion for her; and when this morning
I raised my hand to strike her for her stubborn spirit, and saw her eyes
unflinching, and her pale, pale, but fearless face, my arm fell to my
side powerless. She will not take to this life without the old man. She
will waste away and die."

LOSELY.--"How you bother me! Are you serious? What am I to do?"

MRS. CRANE.--"You have won money you say; revoke the contract; pay
Rugge back his L100. He is disappointed in his bargain; he will take the
money."

LOSELY.--"I dare say he will indeed! No: I have won to-day, it is true,
but I may lose to-morrow; and besides I am in want of so many things:
when one gets a little money, one has an immediate necessity for
more--ha! ha! Still I would not have the child die; and she may grow up
to be of use. I tell you what I will do; if, when the races are over, I
find I have gained enough to afford it, I will see about buying her off.
But L100 is too much! Rugge ought to take half the money, or a quarter,
because, if she don't act, I suppose she does eat."

Odious as the man's words were, he said them with a laugh that seemed to
render them less revolting,--the laugh of a very handsome mouth, showing
teeth still brilliantly white. More comely than usual that day, for he
was in great good-humour, it was difficult to conceive that a man with
so healthful and fair an exterior was really quite rotten at heart.

"Your own young laugh," said Arabella Crane, almost tenderly. "I know
not how it is, but this day I feel as if I were less