to make up her mind; but my cousin a week ago she is telling me that now they will be at Colline des Roses again, and her husban' think they will adadupp—is that the word?—he think now they make Monsieur Hyacinthe Momoro their son. Who can tell?"
Then she returned to her work, and Ogle sat a moment longer, looking thoughtfully at the envelope before taking it to the concierge. He had heard that French servants were great gossips and far from accurate; but this one seemed to have a reliable avenue of communication open to the villa "Colline des Roses"; and he wondered if the frost-bitten Mlle. Daurel had a prejudice against Americans. She oughtn't to have, he thought, in view of the fortune that had come to her from the country of the Americans; but it might be possible. In fact, it might be what that note so beautifully signed "Aurélie de St. D. M." had entreated him to understand. And as he thought of it, this explanation seemed more and more plausible; Mme. Momoro was so anxious for the adoption that she had feared to lose influence with Mlle. Daurel by letting the icy old woman see she had made friends with any of the hated race.
