Margot took off the telephone receiver and asked for a number. It was early next morning, and the child was not yet dressed.

She was in kimono and slippers and had tiptoed into the living room.

"Hello," said a voice at the other end of the wire.

"Hello," said Margot. "I want to speak with Jeanne, if you please."

Margot had talked of nothing but Jeanne from the time she had left the shop. She had fallen asleep last night to the tune of Pierrot dreams, fiery steeds, and gallant armored knights.

Grandmother promised that she might ask Jeanne to play with her to-day. They would go for a long drive. They would go to the park and to the Guignol. There was nobody like Jeanne—nobody that Margot had ever met.

"Is this Jeanne?" asked Margot, as the little girl's voice came over the telephone.

"Yes."

"This is Margot. Can you go out with me to-day? I shall call for you at two."

It was a command, but little Margot was not aware of that. She did not mean it that way. She only meant to have what she wanted, as she usually did."But I must first ask Auntie," Jeanne replied.

"Oh, she will let you go," declared Margot. "You may tell her that we shall take care of you and bring you back safely."

Margot waited while Jeanne ran to Auntie's room. Jeanne had not seen Auntie since the afternoon before, when she had so mysteriously disappeared in her room after her fainting spell. Jeanne found Auntie a pale and worried Auntie this morning.

"Oh, Auntie dear," cried Jeanne, throwing her arms about Suzanne's neck, "you are not well."

Suzanne assured the child that she was quite well, and so she was. The only trouble was with the little man who is nothing but a voice and is called Conscience. He had been talking to her all night and keeping her awake.

When Jeanne told what Madame Villard's grandchild wanted, it seemed that Suzanne flinched at the name.

But she smiled and answered, "Yes, dear. Tell her you will go. It will be so nice for you. And to-day is Sunday. There is no work."

Jeanne was only a child, and she longed to go with her new little friend. She longed to ride in the big motor and to play. But she hesitated just for a minute.

"You are sure you will not need me, dear Auntie?" she asked."Run along and tell the little girl you are coming," laughed Auntie Sue.

When Jeanne closed the door behind her, Suzanne Moreau's smile faded. She held her throbbing head in her two hands.

How she longed to tell some one of her sufferings! If only she dared confide her story to the Major!

But she valued that honorable gentleman's friendship so much that she feared to lose it by admitting what she now felt to be her terrible crime. Conscience was making her think that—Conscience, together with the face in the locket!

And now Jeanne was going out with little Margot—her own cousin! Margot would take her in a beautiful car. Margot would wear beautiful clothes. They would play with beautiful toys.

Ah, poor little Jeanne! It was hard for Suzanne, with these thoughts, to keep a smiling face until Jeanne had left with Margot.