The carte de jour was before Monsieur. “Bless you, sweetheart. Oh, peste, he will ruin all. "I can't help thinking of it, Sir," answered the widow. I will go to-night. I shall charge you five per cent. All the events of the previous day rushed to his recollection; and though he had been unintentionally the cause of his mother's death, he reproached himself as severely as if he had been her actual murderer. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis. Things happen to women—proper women—and all they have to do is to take them well. “I—I shall be all right directly. At any rate she must see me. ’ ‘No, no, go and fetch the men to the house.
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