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baby,

whose face

in its new

bed she

could just

see by the

night-light's

glow. The

afternoon

had shaken

her

nerves.

Nor was

Betty's

method of

breathing

while

asleep

conducive

to the

slumber of

anything

but

babies. It

was so

hot, too,

and the

sound of

the violin

still in

her ears.

By that

little air

of Poise,

she had

known for

certain it

was

Fiorsen;

and her

father's

abrupt

drawing of

the

curtains

had

clinched

that

certainty.

If she had