The Bacillus of Beauty

A little old Frenchman, with a wooden leg, who was singing the "Marseillaise" from door to door, approached, holding out his hat.

"Merci, M'sieu', Madame," he said, carelessly pocketing a nickel; then, as he fairly caught sight of the face that Helen of old might have envied, he started back in amazement, slowly whispering:-"Pardon! Mon dieu! Une Ange!"

We left him muttering and staring after us.

"I'll really have to get a thicker veil," said Helen hastily; "stuffy thing! I like to breathe and see. At first it was--oh, delightful to be looked at like that--or almost delightful; for if no had one noticed, how was I to be sure that--that New York was agreeing vit' me? But now they begin to----"

"Then New York hasn't always agreed vit' you? Aren't you going to tell me----"

"Oh, I've been well," she interrupted, "ever since I came. But here's Kitty. Any adventures, Goldilocks?"

"A minute ago a tandem cuffed my back wheel," said Miss Reid, coming up. "My heart jumped into my mouth and--and I'm nibbling little scallops out of it right now."

And then we trooped upstairs together.