‘Who _doesn’t_ know her?’ he answered, laughing. ‘She is ubiquitous, and appears to be an institution wherever I go. I have met her at Paris, in Italy, Switzerland and Germany; at Brussels and Rille, and now I find her settled in St. Pucelle. I begin to believe I am never to be rid of Miss Sophy Markham, and if I crossed to Dover to-morrow, I should expect to see her face hanging over the rails of the landing-stage to welcome me home.’ They all laughed heartily at that, and Tessie said slyly: ‘Do you not admire her, then?’ ‘Come, come, my girl! no scandal,’ interposed Mr. Lovett, quickly. ‘Ah, papa! I forgot you were one of the followers in her train.’ ‘I am sure papa is no such thing,’ said Ange, indignantly. ‘_She_ follows papa, you mean!’ ‘Here, Charteris! let us get out of this,’ exclaimed her father, rising from table. ‘You see what you have to expect from putting your character in the hands of a couple of little scandalmongers like these. If you will not take any more wine for the present, we will stroll down the town and speak to Jacques Despard about the horses. I know he has several nice colts for sale, and if you are anything of a horseman, you may like the mettle of a young, untrained animal. De Nesselrode will be up here by-and-by, I have no doubt, when I shall have the pleasure of making you personally acquainted. Tessie, my dear, should the Baron arrive before I return, tell him to make himself _chez lui_ till I come. Now, Charteris.’ And, with a bow that included us all three from the latter, and a nod from Mr. Lovett, the two gentlemen took their way down the street of St. Pucelle. Oh, how I longed to go to bed and bury my bursting brain in the feather pillows; to find myself quite, _quite_ alone in the friendly darkness, and with the key in my door turned against all intruders. My head ached from repressed thought; my heart was sick and trembling; I felt really ill for want of giving vent to my emotion: yet, so strong are the influences of custom and society, that I dared not tell the girls I needed rest. On the contrary, I eagerly denied their assertion that the sudden appearance of Mr. Charteris had upset me, and disdained all need of the affectionate sympathy they tendered me in consequence. ‘My dear children,’ I said impatiently, ‘I assure you you are mistaken. I am not half such a fool as I look. I confess it startled me to see Mr. Charteris walk into the room, because, for aught I knew to the contrary, the man might have been dead and buried by this time; but that fact alone will tell you that we could not have been very intimate friends in the olden days.’ ‘Still, I suppose you know _something_ about him?’ persisted Ange. ‘How do you mean “_something about him_?”’ ‘Why, about his family, and so forth.’ ‘Indeed, I do not. I never paid a single visit to his family—I believe they are Northampton people!’ ‘Norfolk, I think,’ put in Ange, timidly; ‘at least he said so when we first saw him at Rille.’