happens, I'll follow the old desire. It is the nearest thing to a soul that I have ever had. But I am not sorry that I have been obliged to think it all out again. Now it is settled forever."
Feeling safe in this new resolve, she set her fancy free. The last strains of music, tender, sweet, floated up to her. They came like the touch of pleading fingers. She rose with a start, a flush of guilt upon her face. There was a sudden gleam from the fire. From the wall certain words that she had painted on the back of an old palette shone out like a reproach,
"Se tu segui tua stella."
*****
At eight o'clock in the morning Miserere woke, and stretched out his gray paws on the soft divan. His mistress was late. He gave one soft, sleepy, injured mew. The old grievance against life came back to him with returning consciousness.
Miserere was unhappy. His was the heritage of the man
