‘Let us walk with your father to the diligence, Tessie,’ I suggested, as she reappeared with his travelling-bag, for I felt quite afraid lest something might happen in the middle of the town if he were allowed to go by himself. Every one was agreeable to this arrangement, so we accompanied him as far as the Hôtel d’Etoile, and saw him safely seated in the coach and started on the road to Artois. And then we returned home again, I exhorting Tessie all the way to try and control her feelings, and keep her own counsel with respect to the morning’s alarm, lest some report of it should reach the ears of Ange. When we arrived at the house we ran upstairs together to make the beds, a domestic duty which we had taken upon ourselves and should have accomplished directly after breakfast had it not been for the unfortunate interruption to which we had been subjected. The first room we entered was that occupied by Ange and Tessie. The first thing I saw on entering it was a black heap upon the floor. ‘Hullo!’ I exclaimed, thinking it was a fallen dress, and about to reprimand the Miss Lovetts for their untidiness; but the next moment my voice had changed to a shrill alarm. ‘Tessie, Tessie! look here—for God’s sake! _it is Ange!_’ We rushed up to the figure on the floor and knelt beside it. I raised the head and laid it gently back upon my arm. The girl was in a state of complete unconsciousness. ‘She has fainted!’ cried Tessie. ‘Oh, my poor darling, how ill she looks! And how did she come here? I thought she had gone to the convent.’ ‘So did I! She certainly said good-bye to us as she left the _salle_. Can she have felt ill and returned whilst we were absent?’ ‘But then Marmoret would have seen her, Hilda. The door of the corridor is locked; I have the key in my pocket.’ ‘Well, we mustn’t stay to speculate how it happened. Put a pillow under her head, Tessie. We must lay her flat down on the ground and loosen her clothes. Oh! how I wish you had sent for Dr. Perrin when I asked you.’ ‘How could I tell she was so ill?’ asked Tessie, weeping. ‘Any one could have told it! She has been ill and feverish for weeks past, and I am not sure if her mind or body are suffering the most. What a pity we didn’t find her before your father left the house. He might have sent Monsieur Perrin back from Rille at once.’ ‘We must write and tell him by this afternoon’s post, Hilda. Oh! why doesn’t she open her eyes? What shall we do?’ ‘Set the door and window wide open, and run down and fetch some spring water to sprinkle her face with. Don’t cry so, Tessie; it can do no good, and will distress her when she is coming to herself again.’