"You see," she said quickly, "I said there was no need to frighten the poor darling by taking him to the police office." "Yes, Madame," she went on, turning to auntie, "the dear bébé is here—that is to say, he cannot but be the one you are looking for. I sent him out into the little garden with his cat and my little girl, while my grandfather and I talked about what to do. I would have sent him home, I mean we would have tried to find his home, if my husband had been here, but he is away."

"And I am too feeble, Madame, as you see, to walk far," said the old man, who seemed now anxious to be very amiable.

"But you talked of taking him to the police office," said the young woman, in a low voice, "the idea! to frighten a bébé like that."

"Hush, hush," said the old man, "all was to be done for the best. You shall see him, your dear child, Madame," he went on, bustling about.

"But tell me first—a moment——" said auntie, "What did he come for? Did he buy the picture?"

"The picture," repeated the old man, "no, surely. It was the glass jugs, the little gentleman wanted, and he had his money all right—I took but the just price, Madame—I would not deceive any one."

"They are very dear to my mind," said the young woman, "but there—I know nothing about old things. This is not our shop, Madame—I look in in passing, to see the grandfather sometimes, that is all."

Auntie stood still a moment to listen.—P. 155.
Click to [ENLARGE]

"And Baby came to buy some jugs, you say," repeated auntie. There was a confused remembrance in her mind of something Baby had said about jugs, something he had asked her to look at the day they had stood at the shop window, but which she had since forgotten. Her only idea in coming to the little old shop had been the picture. "You said he came to buy some jugs?" she said again.