she was a little proud of, there might occasionally be seen a small prong of gold twinkling at the corner of her mouth; but this was only when the lady forgot herself, and was foolish enough to smile with unfeigned pleasure. Her invariable dress was black satin, and this of the glossiest description, so that she shone as if done up in court-plaster. But though the lady looked as dry and stiff as schoolmistresses usually are, she was not without her genial qualities; and many a tale was told of girls educated and put out in the world by her, whose parents had placed them under her charge, and disappeared shortly afterwards. Moreover, it was whispered that her father, having squandered a large property, had died suddenly in his chair after dinner, leaving her mother and herself to fight their way through life, without resources and without friends. The young girl, so the story ran, had first gone as teacher, and afterwards become partner, in the school, of which, by the death of the late mistress, she was now sole proprietress. Immediately the gate was opened, Miss Wewitz took Miss Chutney by the arm and hurried into the house, where the smell of stale tobacco nearly overpowered her, while the thought of her hard-earned reputation being sacrificed in so cruel a manner made the tears rush in a flood to her eyes. The house never could be got sweet again—that was certain; and what would the mothers think on bringing their daughters back to an establishment, reeking of tobacco smoke worse than a common taproom! and, in the excitement of her feelings, she upbraided her mother bitterly for her indiscretion, telling her that she had brought ruin upon their heads. Then suddenly recollecting that she was giving way to her feelings before Miss Chutney, she retired with that young lady to the music-room, and gave her strict injunctions on no account whatever to stir from the spot. After this, she begged her mother to make her acquainted with the entire transaction, from beginning to end; and when that lady had confided to her the whole of the circumstances. Miss Wewitz, who had by that time resumed the natural calmness of her temper, observed, that it was no time for bickering, and that before taking off her bonnet, she would just step on to that remarkably civil young man, the inspector at the police station, and ascertain from him what she had better do, situated as she was. Miss Wewitz had no sooner closed the outer gate, than the Count de Sanschemise, who had all the time been leaning over the banisters, end watching every movement of the ladies below, crept softly down the stairs, and moved on tiptoe towards the room in which he had seen Miss Chutney placed. Opening the door, he entered the music-room, as though he was unaware of any one being in it, and pretended to start back with surprise on finding it occupied by a stranger.