"Open!" I hissed back. "I'll go to Mrs Blunt, and tell everything, I will--everything; and won't spare myself a bit, so that you may be punished, you wicked, good-for-nothing, bad-behaved, deceitful and treacherous thing, you!" "Take breath now, my darling," she said, tauntingly. "Breath," I said--"I wish I had none. I wish I was dead, I do." And I could not help a bit of a sob coming. "Poor Achille!" she whispered. "What would he do then?" "Oh, don't talk to me--don't," I said, bending down my burning face over a book, not a word in which could I see. "It did tease you, then, did it?" said Clara, laughing. "Tease me, you heartless thing you," I said. "Hold your tongue, do! I'll never forgive you--never, Clara!" "Less talking there," said Miss Furness--the Griffin. "Ugh! you nasty old claw-puss," said Clara, in an undertone. After a few minutes' silence, I began again. "I did not give you credit for it, Clara," I said. "Thought you were not going to speak to me any more," she said. "Oh, it's too bad," I whispered; "but you will be sorry for it some day." "No, I sha'n't, you little goose you. It was not your note at all," she said. "I only did it to tease you, and serve you out for trying to deceive me, who have always tried to be a friend to you from the very first." "Oh, my own, dear, darling Clara," I cried, in a whisper, "is this true? Then I'll never, never do anything without you again, and tell you everything; and am not cross a bit." "But I am," she cried; "see what names you have been calling me." "Ah, but see how agonising it was, dear," I whispered. "Only think of what you made me suffer. I declare I shall burst out into a fit of hysterical crying directly." "No, no, don't do that," said Clara. "Then make haste, and tell me what he said, so as to change my thoughts." "Guess," said Clara, sliding my own dear little note into my hand once again. "Oh, pray, pray tell me," I whispered. "Don't, whatever you do, don't tease me any more. I shall die if you do." "No, don't," she said, mockingly, "for poor Achille's sake." "I would not serve you so, Clara," I said, humbly, the tears the while gathering in my eyes. And then she began to tell me that the note was very long, and stated how he had been interrupted by the policeman, and had not ventured since; but that he and the Signor had arranged to come that night, and they would be under the end of the conservatory at eleven, if we could contrive to meet them there. "And of course we can," said Clara. "How they must have been plotting together!" "But we never can manage it," I whispered, with a strange fluttering coming over my heart. "I can, I can," whispered Clara, squeezing my hand; "but be careful, for here comes the Griffin, and she's as suspicious as can be."