"What is it? Can I
help you in any way? Is there anything I can do for you?"
She fairly burst into sobs as he spoke.
"Monsieur Horace," she answered, "I--I wanted to make your
fortune; I had looked forward to it for such a long time, and
I was so happy when I had done it, and I thought you would be
so pleased and glad, too, and now it is all at an end----"
How was Graham to console her? How explain it all to her?
"Listen to me, Madelon," he said at last; "I think you were a
dear little girl to have such a kind thought for me, and I
don't know how to thank you enough for it; but it was all a
mistake, and you must not fret about it now. I don't think I
care so very much about having a fortune; and anyhow, I like
working hard and getting money that way for myself."
"But mine is the best and quickest way," said Madelon,
unconvinced; "it was what papa always did."
"Yes, but you know everybody does not set to work the same
way, and I think I like mine best for myself."
"Do you?" she said, looking at him wistfully; "and may I not
go and try again, then?"
"No, no," he answered kindly; "that would not do at all,
Madelon; it does not do for little girls to run about the
world making fortunes.
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