imparted strength to his knees. He stood. Still gibbering with agitation, he walked away. 

 “You are a clever woman,” said Mr. Emerson. “You have done more than all the relics in the world. I am not of your creed, but I do believe in those who make their fellow-creatures happy. There is no scheme of the universe—” 

 He paused for a phrase. 

 “Niente,” said the Italian lady, and returned to her prayers. 

 “I’m not sure she understands English,” suggested Lucy. 

 In her chastened mood she no longer despised the Emersons. She was determined to be gracious to them, beautiful rather than delicate, and, if possible, to erase Miss Bartlett’s civility by some gracious reference to the pleasant rooms. 

 “That woman understands everything,” was Mr. Emerson’s reply. “But what are you doing here? Are you doing the church? Are you through with the church?” 

 “No,” cried Lucy, remembering her grievance. “I came here with Miss Lavish, who was to explain everything; and just by the door—it is too bad!—she simply ran away, and after waiting quite a time, I had to come in by myself.” 

 “Why shouldn’t you?” said Mr. Emerson. 

 “Yes, why shouldn’t you come by yourself?” said the son, addressing the young lady for the first time. 

 “But Miss Lavish has even taken away Baedeker.” 

 “Baedeker?” said Mr. Emerson. “I’m glad it’s that you minded. It’s worth minding, the loss of a Baedeker. That’s worth minding.” 

 Lucy was puzzled. She was again conscious of some new idea, and was not sure whither it would lead her. 

 “If you’ve no Baedeker,” said the son, “you’d better join us.” Was this where the idea would lead? She took refuge in her dignity. 

 “Thank you very much, but I could not think of that. I hope you do not suppose that I came to join on to you. I really came to help with the child, and to thank you for so kindly giving us your rooms last night. I hope that you have not been put to any great inconvenience.” 

 “My dear,” said the old man gently, “I 

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