Do let me!" Cecil, in silence still, stooped and drew her to him.

When he spoke his voice shook ever so slightly, and he felt his eyes dim with an emotion that he had not known in all his careless life; the child's words and action touched him deeply, the caressing, generous innocence of the offered gift, beside the enormous extravagance and hopeless bankruptcy of his career, smote him with a keen pang, yet moved him with a strange pleasure.
"Petite Reine," he murmured gently, striving vainly for his old lightness, "Petite Reine, how some man will love you one day! Thank you from my heart, my little innocent friend." Her face flushed with gladness; she smiled with all a child's unshadowed joy.
"Ah! then you will take it! and if you want more only let me ask them for it; papa and Philip never refuse me anything!" His hand wandered gently over the shower of her hair, as he put back the Napoleons that he had gathered up into her azure bonbonniere.
"Petite Reine, you are a little angel; but I cannot take your money, my child, and you must ask for none for my sake from your father or from Rock.

Do not look so grieved, little one; I love you none the less because I refuse it." Petite Reine's face was very pale and grave; a delicate face, in its miniature feminine childhood almost absurdly like the Seraph's; her eyes were full of plaintive wonder and of pathetic reproach.
"Ah!" she said, drooping her head with a sigh; "it is no good to you because it is such a little; do let me ask for more!" He smiled, but the smile was very weary.
"No, dear, you must not ask for more; I have been very foolish, my little friend, and I must take the fruits of my folly; all men must.
I can accept no one's money, not even yours; when you are older and remember this, you will know why.

But I do not thank you the less from my heart." She looked at him, pained and wistful.
"You will not take anything, Mr.Cecil ?" she asked with a sigh, glancing at her rejected Napoleons.
He drew the enamel bonbonniere away.
"I will take that if you will give it me, Petite Reine, and keep it in memory of you." As he spoke, he stooped and kissed her very gently; the act had moved him more deeply than he thought he had it in him to be moved by anything, and the child's face turned upward to him was of a very perfect and aristocratic loveliness, far beyond her years.

She colored as his lips touched hers, and swayed slightly from him.