‘There are no young ladies’ schools in St. Pucelle, or I should try and persuade Mrs. Sandilands to send Nell here—and I’d look after her! It is so charming to see any one from the old country when you are exiled in a foreign land.’ ‘One would imagine to hear you talk, Miss Marsh,’ interposed Mr. Charteris, ‘and to see the rapture with which you welcome your friends from England, that you had been expatriated for a lifetime, instead of three months.’ He spoke ‘nastily’ to me, and he meant me to take it so. I could almost have thought, from the expression of his voice, that he was annoyed at witnessing the friendly terms on which I was with Charlie Sandilands. But that would have been too ridiculous, under the circumstances. However, I could not help giving him a _quid pro quo_. ‘I am not in the habit of forgetting my friends, Mr. Charteris. And if an absence of three months can make me so glad to meet them again, it is only a proof that I have found none better to take their places in the interim.’ He bit his lip and went on smoking, whilst I turned my attention again to Charlie, and continued my catechism of his home affairs. It was strange that during the three weeks Cave Charteris and I had spent under the same roof, not a word nor a hint had been exchanged between us relating to our former intimacy. That he had entirely forgotten it I could not believe; neither could he credit me with so short a memory. On the contrary, his studied avoidance of the subject convinced me that he remembered only too well, although it was convenient to attribute his reticence to his fear of hurting my feelings by reviving thoughts of my lost mother. At the same time he never appeared quite at his ease when in my presence, and as he reminded me painfully of a time of weakness and suffering which I had lived to be very much ashamed of, we had mutually avoided each other as much as possible. I was surprised, therefore, to see that he condescended to take any notice of my interest in Charlie Sandilands. ‘Have you had luncheon yet, Charlie?’ I went on, with my back turned to Mr. Charteris. ‘No, Hilda. They told me at the hotel it was served at one.’ ‘Well, go and get it then, and come back to take a walk with me.’ ‘I shall be delighted!’ ‘Will not Mr. Sandilands stay and take some _goûter_ with us, Hilda? Papa will be in directly,’ interposed Tessie. ‘_No!_’ I said decidedly. ‘He had better go back to his hotel.’ I had no idea of a friend of mine breaking bread in Mr. Lovett’s house, whilst I could prevent it. The Sandilands had always been honest to the core. Let Charlie go and eat bread that had been paid for! I felt sure his mother would have said the same. ‘Call for me at two o’clock,’ I said in parting. ‘I will take you such a lovely walk as you have never seen before, right up the hill to the forest of Piron.’ ‘Past the Château des Roses!’ said Tessie, mischievously.