I do not think that if Tessie and Ange had foreseen that the presence of Mr. Charteris under their father’s roof was to entail a series of visits from Miss Sophy Markham, they would have rejoiced so greatly at the acquisition of their boarder. But she certainly lost no time in paying the preliminary one. As I descended to breakfast the following morning, I was surprised to hear her shrill voice from the _salle_, and stopped midway in my journey to demand of Madame Marmoret in the kitchen if it were possible that I heard aright. Madame Marmoret, with her head tied up in a red handkerchief and gold earrings dangling from her ears, looked like a picturesque and pleased old gipsy. ‘For certain it is she,’ was her reply, ‘and why not? _Ma foi!_ one would think, to see your surprise, that eight o’clock was an unheard-of hour to get out of bed. It may be the custom in England, but for St. Pucelle, thanks to the Blessed Virgin and the good Abbé, who teaches us better, we do not waste the precious time here, when it is running on so fast to carry us to our graves.’ It was very strange to me that Madame Marmoret, who as a rule hated all the English visitors to St. Pucelle, was never heard to speak ill of Miss Sophia Markham, who was the most offensive of them all! Was it possible she could imagine her old master would be so foolish as to think of taking a second wife from amongst the surplus female population of Great Britain; he whose habits and associations were so thoroughly naturalised to the country of his adoption, and who was too poor even to support his daughters and himself? Well, there were no limits to be put to the folly of men, young or old, in that respect; but I trusted from the bottom of my heart, for the girls’ sakes, that it was not true. The mere supposition, though, made Miss Markham’s voice sound more screechy and silly than usual, as I continued on my way to the _salle_. There she sat, in her walking things, a little apart from the table, evidently waiting till the meal should be concluded, to carry out the design that brought her there. Mr. Charteris jumped up from his seat as soon as I appeared, all smiles, bustle, and animation, and set a chair for me in my own place. I was so glad it should be so; that the remembrance of anything in our former intimacy that was likely to make us feel uncomfortable in the present seemed so completely to have escaped his memory, and left him free as myself to exchange the courtesies of a new acquaintanceship.