methodically washed his face.

"I believe I envy Mr. Boffin his perfect digestion," remarked Madame, as
she sipped her coffee from a Royal Canton cup. She and Rose stood for
half an hour after dinner, always.

Isabel finished her coffee and set the cup upon the table. She slipped
the Sheffield tray from under the embroidered doily and took it to the
light, where she leaned over it, studying the design. Rose thought that
the light from the tray was reflected upon the girl's face, she became
at once so brilliant, so sparkling.

"Speaking of harmony--" said Madame Bernard, in a low tone, glancing at
Rose and inclining her head toward Isabel.

"Yes," replied Isabel, returning the tray to its place; "it is a lovely
one, isn't it?"

Madame turned toward the window to hide a smile. Rose followed, and drew
the little grey lady into the circle of her strong arm.

"Dear Aunt Francesca!" she said softly. "I thank you so much!"

The older woman patted the hand that wore the ruby, then turned to
Isabel. "Come," she said, "and be glad you're indoors."

The three women stood at the wide window, looking out across the snow,
lighted only by the stars and a ghostly crescent of moon. The evergreens
were huddled closely together as though they kept each other warm.
Beyond, the mountains brooded in their eternal sleep, which riving