“It seems to me that you and Mr. Winthrop go to extremes in your estimate of me.  First, you keep me so low in the valley of humiliation that I well nigh lose heart, and then you hoist me on a pedestal, making me grow dizzy with conceit.  I suggest that we pass a law not to talk about each other at all.”

“But you cannot hope to be perfect unless wise friends point out your foibles,” Mr. Winthrop assured me.

“I have never expected to reach such a height.  It would be so lonely for me, you know—­no society of my own kind, save here and there a poor and humble soul,” I said, wickedly.

“Nevertheless, one should make the effort to stand on the top round of the ladder of human excellence.”

“It is a long ladder, and the climb is wearisome, and death soon interposes and ends our ambition,” I said, wearily.

“But you have such perfect assurance respecting the to-morrow of death, you must believe that excellence gained here will be so much capital to carry with you into that life; but you implicit believers very often voice your faith rather than live it,” Mr. Winthrop remarked, with a touch of his accustomed sarcasm.

“Mr. Bowen lives his quite as well as he talks it, but he is the nearest perfection of any human being I ever expect to meet.”

“That is hard on our set, Mrs. Flaxman.  Medoline, it seems, has fished out of the slums a veritable saint, and handsome as he is good.  If I remember right he is a widower.”

“Yes, certainly, he is the one she got the suit of clothes for when she was in New York.”

He turned to me abruptly and asked,

“How old is he?”

“I have never asked him,” I said mischievously, “but he looks older than you.”

“Medoline, what are you saying?  He was a grandfather years ago.”

“And I am afraid that is an honor which Mr. Winthrop will never attain,” I tried to say sympathetically.

Mrs. Flaxman cast him a startled look; but he smiled very calmly as if the words had merely amused him.

CHAPTER XX.

Mrs. Le Grande.

I was impatient for the appointed hour to come when I was expected at Rose Cottage.  I had tried to get further information from Esmerelda respecting Mrs. Le Grande; but she seemed unwilling to say much about her, leaving me more mystified than ever.

“You will know all pretty soon from her own lips, Miss, and it would cost me my place if Mr. Winthrop knew I was meddling with what didn’t concern me.”

“Mr. Winthrop is not a severe master.  I think he interferes very little with our household matters.”

“But this is different; and please, Miss Selwyn, don’t let on to a soul that I gave you that letter.  Mrs. Le Grande said if I didn’t take it some one else would; and it was an easy way to earn a trifle.”

“But if there is anything wrong in the matter it is the hardest way in the world to get money,” I said, perplexed at her words.