The window of the bureau looked out on to the vestibule and the big staircase. And full in sight of the window Mrs. Tailleur was sitting on a seat set under the stair. She had her hat on and carried a sunshade in her hand, for the day was fine and warm. She was waiting for somebody. And as she waited she amused herself by smiling at the little four-year-old son of the management who played in the vestibule, it being the slack season. He was running up and down the flagged floor, dragging a little cart after him. And as he ran he never took his eyes off the pretty lady. They said, every time, with the charming vanity of childhood, "Look at me!" And Kitty looked at him, every time, and made, every time, the right sort of smile that says to a little boy, "I see you." Just then nobody was there to see Kitty but the manager's wife, who stood at the window of the bureau and saw it all. And as the little boy was not looking in the least where he was going, his feet were presently snared in the rug where the pretty lady sat, and he would have tumbled on his little nose if Kitty had not caught him. He was going to cry, but Kitty stopped him just in time by lifting him on to her lap and giving him her watch to look at. A marvellous watch that was gold and blue and bordered with a ring of little sparkling stones. At that moment Robert Lucy came down the stairs. He came very quietly and leaned over the banister behind Kitty's back and watched her, while he listened shamelessly to the conversation. The pretty lady looked prettier than ever. "My daddy gave my mummy her watch on her birthday," said the little boy. "Who gave you your watch?" "It wasn't your daddy, dear." "Of course it wasn't my daddy." "Of course not." "What is your name?" "My name is Mrs. Tailleur." "Mrs. Ty-loor. My name is Stanley. That gentleman's name is Mr. Lucy. I like him." Lucy came down and seated himself beside her. She made him a sign with her mouth, as much as to say she was under a charm and he wasn't to break it. "Do you like him, Mrs. Tyloor?" "Well--what do you think?" "I think you like him very much." Mrs. Tailleur laughed softly. "What makes you laugh?" "You. You're so funny." "_You're_ funny. Your eyelashes curl up when you laugh, and your eyes curl, too. And your mouth!" he crowed with the joy of it. "Such a funny mouth." The mouth hid itself in the child's soft neck among his hair. The woman in the bureau saw that, and her face became curiously contracted. "I remember the day you came. My daddy said you was very pretty." "And what did your mummy say?" Kitty had caught sight of the fierce face in the window, and a little daring devil had entered into her. "Mummy said she couldn't tell if she wasn't allowed to look." "And why," said Lucy, "wasn't she allowed to look?" "Daddy said she wasn't to." "Of course he did," said Lucy. "It's very rude to look at people." "Daddy looked. I saw him."