"They say they won't, but they may. They tell lies, those French people. Alphonsine told lots of lies when she was here. We can't believe her, even if she says she won't hurt Jay." "I know she won't," said Gabrielle. "We'd give anything to get him back," said Missy. "Tell me all that happened; you shall not be punished." "I promised not," said the child, looking down, and glancing towards the clock uncomfortably. Missy caught the direction of her glance. "Why do you look at the clock?" she asked. Gabrielle hung her head lower than before, and looked convicted. "When did she tell you you might tell?" demanded Missy, with keen sagacity. "Not till after ten o'clock," murmured the girl. Missy's heart sank; it was just forty-five minutes past eight o'clock. They had felt sure of safety if the child could be kept silent for that length of time, and had no doubt set an outside limit to her silence. "You are quite right," said Missy, "in not breaking your promise. I suppose she thought you would be punished to make you tell, and she told you you must hold out till ten?" Gabrielle nodded, perplexed at this reading of her mind. "Always keep your word, even to wicked people," said Missy, getting up and smoothing out some papers that were lying open on the table. "You know =I= think Alphonsine is a wicked woman, but you must keep your word to her all the same, you know." Gabrielle was quite reassured by this, and drew a freer breath. "She told me I might tell after ten o'clock if I couldn't help it, and she'd give me--the--the--" "I understand," said Missy, "the reward she offered. Well, now, I'll go and see about some things up-stairs, and you can come with me and put my ribbon box in order. And at ten o'clock I'll call you to come and tell me all about it." Gabrielle brightened. She had rarely had access to Missy's sashes and ribbons; she longed to get at them, even at this agitated moment. While she was shut in Missy's room in this congenial occupation, Missy went down stairs and rapidly turned forward an hour the hands of the hall and parlor clocks; then waiting fifteen minutes in breathless suspense, called up to Gabrielle to come to her. She was sure the child would not have any correct estimate of time, and saw her glance without surprise at the clock on the mantelpiece, which pointed at ten. "Now, I suppose you may tell me all about it," she said, trying to speak very indifferently. "Tell me when you first saw Alphonsine." "Day before yesterday," she said. "After dinner, when papa had taken Jay to drive, and left me all alone." "Oh, where were you?" "I was down on the beach below the cedars. I heard somebody call me softly up on the bank, and I looked up and saw Alphonsine beckoning to me. So I went up, and she took me behind the bushes and talked to me." There was a long pause. "Well," said Missy, trying to smooth out her voice as she smoothed out the creases in a piece of work she had in her hand. "Well, what did she say?"