Miss Chutney could hardly contain herself for passion when she found that the cross, spiteful old thing, as she termed Miss Wewitz, had _really_ sent for her guardian. She never thought she would have carried matters to that length. She had half a mind to, and it would just serve Miss Wewitz right if she _did_, accept the French gentleman’s offer, and place herself under his protection. “_Then_,” she added, exultingly, “how nicely Miss Clever would be caught in her own trap, when Miss Chutney’s guardian _did_ come down, and find that that young lady had eloped with a Frenchman to the Continent. Where would her trumpery hard-earned reputation, that she was always making such a fuss about, be then, she would like to know?—for of course,” continued Miss Chutney to herself, “the news wouldn’t be very long in travelling to all the mothers’ ears, who would be sure to take fright, and leave her without a pupil in the house.” “Oh, wouldn’t it be a game!” she exclaimed, “and I should so like to do it, just to be revenged upon her; for if there’s one thing I can bear less than another, it is for persons to show their ill-temper, as she has been doing to me for these last two days. And I’m sure that nice, good-tempered creature of a Count would behave so differently to me. It’s quite evident, from all he says and does, that he would go down on his knees to be allowed to gratify my slightest wish; and, after all his kindness, it really would seem quite cruel to reject him. Besides,” she said to herself, “he was just the kind of man to take it seriously to heart, and perhaps commit some rash act; for it was evident that he was quite smitten with her—though she was sure she couldn’t tell why; and if anything were to occur to the poor man, she felt convinced she should end her days in a madhouse.” While Miss Chutney was ruminating after this fashion, the postal fishing-rod again made its appearance, bearing a small slip of paper, on which were printed the well-known epistolary initials— R V S V P. At the sight of the request for a reply, the young lady’s courage failed her; and after some little reflection, she decided in her own mind that the best course to adopt would be to put it to the Count’s own good sense as to how it would be possible for her to quit the house with him, when she was kept in that room all day under lock and key. This, she said, would not be a positive refusal to the poor man, but it would be a nice gentle way of breaking to him what she felt he would take as a very severe disappointment. Accordingly, having written as much, she threw the line out of the window, and sat down once more to reflect on what had occurred.