"If Richard had been here," she said, "I could not have spoken to you of my child--of my darling Julia. And though I'm sorry not to see him, I'm glad to have this opportunity of telling you, Adela, that I regret nothing, and that I do not feel that I have any reason to be ashamed." As the other looked at her with deeply troubled eyes, she continued: "Of course I know you think I have acted very wrongly. But in these matters every woman must judge for her own self. After all, that man over there,"--she waved her hand vaguely as if indicating some far distant spot, and Mrs. Rebell, slight though was her sense of humour, felt a flash of melancholy amusement as she realised that the place so indicated meant the Corsican village where Napoleone Sampiero was leading a most agreeable life on the income which he wrested only too easily from his English wife,--"That man, I say, has no claim on me! If there came any change in the French divorce laws he could easily be brought to do what I wish----Oh Adela, if you only knew what a difference my child has made to me,--and in every way!" For a few moments there was silence between them. Adela Rebell opened her lips--but no words would come, and so at last, timidly and tenderly she laid her hand on the other woman's, and Barbara again spoke. "I used to feel--who would not have done so in my position?--how little real part I played in Julian's life. The knowledge that Arabella and James Berwick were to him almost like his own children was, I confess, painful to me, but now that he knows what it is to have a child of his own--ah, Adela, I wish you could see them together! Only to-day he said to me: 'I love you, Barbara, but I adore our Julia!' I used to think he would never care to spend much of the year in the country; but now, since the child came, he seems quite content to stay for long weeks together at Fletchings." "And I suppose," said Mrs. Rebell,--she did not know how to bring herself to speak of little Julia--"I suppose that James and Arabella--how well I remember them as small children--are a great deal with him?" "Well, no," for the first time during the conversation Madame Sampiero reddened deeply. "Arabella has been taken possession of by her mother's people. They have not been quite kind about--about the whole matter--and I think at first Julian felt it a good deal. But after all it would have been rather awkward for him to have charge of a niece of eighteen. As to James Berwick, of course he comes and goes, and I'm told he's prodigiously clever. He doesn't grow better-looking as he grows older. Sometimes I find it difficult to believe that the ugly little fellow is Julian's nephew!" "And Jane Turke?" "Oh! I've left her and Alick McKirdy at Chancton, in charge of Julia, of course." "Will you remember me to him--I mean to Doctor McKirdy,--you know I always liked him in old days."