Of one thing only was he sure, the “criticism-cure” was not to be tried on his little wife. “I think it is a case for petting rather than for punishing,” remarked Madame, after an interval during which they had both been severally following out the ramifications of their own reflections. Ezra jumped at this idea. He was of that opinion too, as he impartially observed. Indeed he was always of opinion that Olive required petting. “Yes, I think I understand the case,” continued Madame. “The flowers were a toy, doubly prized now they are gone. What is wanted is to provide a new and more attractive toy, so that the baby-mind will lightly forget the old grief.” Ezra did not quite like this way of referring to Olive, but he had called in Madame’s aid, and he had no choice but to listen to the physician’s diagnosis and prescription regarding the case in question. Madame meanwhile looked at him half pityingly, having apparently overcome her eyes’ desire to avoid his glance. “Poor Ezra!” she said softly. “You are mated to a child, petulant, wilful, hard to manage, and very bewitching. You will find that you cannot in this case work by the light of pure reason. You must bring yourself down to her level and try to see with her eyes, to take delight in the petty trifles that interest her. ’Tis weary work! The task of Sisyphus was none the less severe because it produced no tangible good.” She was silent, and Ezra began to repent that he had sought counsel from so exalted a source, since it was delivered to him with such a liberal seasoning of the bitter salt of implied reproof. “I think that I can apply a remedy in this instance,” resumed Madame. “I know a woman’s mind as well as most people, and I know too the vain weaknesses of a silly girl—perhaps the knowledge comes from a memory, or perhaps from a shattered hope, who knows? At all events, dear friend and brother, it will serve you now.” She left him to go into the small inner apartment which was her bedroom, and came out again in a few moments carrying a small gold bracelet of curious workmanship, an Oriental trinket. “Here is a little trifle I happen to have by me. Do you think this toy would dry the little one’s tears?” She handed the bracelet to Ezra, who, though ignorant enough on such matters, did not fail to recognise the flash of diamonds in the jewel. “This is a very valuable piece of jewellery,” he said. “You must not give it away.” “I don’t value such things except for the power of making someone happy,” replied Madame. “Take it, dear friend, and think that I speak truly when I say I would gladly give all I possess to ease your mind of trouble and make your path in life a pleasant one. And the child-wife may like it. Now, go to her. Good-night! You look tired and harassed.” She gently put her hand upon his forehead as if to smooth out wrinkles, and left the room.