I had seen Ange’s lovely face flush with anticipation, and Tessie’s also, though in a less degree, but it had all come to nothing. Mr. Lovett had hummed and hawed and smiled sweetly on the inviter, and as good as promised his girls should attend the party, and then dropped the subject altogether. Once I ventured to ask Tessie why she did not remind her father of his promise, as he might, perhaps, have forgotten it; but she shook her head, and said it would be better not. Ange and she had no dresses fit to appear in, and papa would not like to see them worse clad than the rest. ‘But a muslin dress, Tessie!’ I urged, ‘costs very little, and nothing could be more suitable for a dance in St. Pucelle!’ Still Tessie shook her head, and begged me to say no more about it, as it was impossible. It was on that occasion, I remember, that I asked her, downright, what allowance her father gave her sister and herself for dress—and how they spent it. ‘_Allowance!_’ she repeated, with open eyes. ‘Oh, Hilda! how can you think dear papa could afford to make us an allowance! You do not nearly understand how poor we are! Do you know, we should be unable to get on as well as we do, if it were not for the kindness of papa’s old pupil, the Prince de Ritzburg. He often sends us a bank-note in his letters, and when we lived near the Court, and any English nobles or princes were staying there, papa was invited to the state dinners, and there was always a bank-note put under his plate. Wasn’t it good of him? But he owes a great deal to papa, who was almost his only tutor.’ ‘But, Tessie!’ I said, more interested in the question of her allowance than the gratitude of Prince Francius de Ritzburg, ‘if you have no money who pays for your dresses?’ ‘We have only got a decent one apiece,’ she answered, laughing. ‘I think Madame paid for these; I know she went over to Artois in the spring and bought them, and grumbled terribly at the price. But they couldn’t have cost much, Hilda; they are only serge.’ ‘I do not think anything you could wear could become you better, Tessie,’ I said truthfully; ‘still, I do wish your papa would let you go to this party. Ange _would_ enjoy it so.’ ‘Of course she would—the darling! But we cannot afford it. It is quite impossible! so please say no more about it, Hilda.’ Yet the very same day, at dinner, Mr. Lovett had a dish of _salmi_ of wild duck stewed in port wine placed before him, and I noticed that Madame drew the cork of his second bottle of Moselle before we left the table. It was such things that, little by little, let daylight in upon my mind, until it was enabled to read his whole character aright.