So the old ladies described how they had to give up their profession. They could no longer use the masseuse on the hand nor the rouge on the cheeks. They could no longer direct as they used to do, the daily programme of their pupils. Everything was at an end because, forsooth, Madame la Comtesse St. Juste required the best part of the day for one of these ladies; turn about truly, ah, yes, turn about, to teach _la petite_ Comtesse. But, behold, they could not teach. It was true, alas, more than true! They could give vast instructions as to massage and the brushing of the hair and the delicate touch of rouge on the cheeks but what did they know of German or of geography? The world for them consisted of _la belle_ France. Was there another land? Ah, well, they did not know of it. Still _la charmante petite_ Comtesse was all that was elegant and delightful, and she would beyond doubt have a very great _dot_ some day, and she would marry according to the French custom into the high nobility. They found it tiresome to sit with the child and teach her nothing, but behold she taught them, and she knew, ah, ten times as much as they did! It was wonderful to listen to her. There were other countries--Angleterre, Irlande, a country called Germany, and lands many and wonderful across the deep, deep sea. It was like listening to a fairy tale to hear _la petite_ talk, and they were getting a good salary. Ah, _oui, très bien, n'est-ce pas_! But behold, the old Comte, he was angry, and _la petite_ Comtesse must have told him things. She looked true at heart, but she was not true at heart; and behold, undoubtedly, she had enlightened M. le Comte concerning them. They were sent away in disgrace. Their hearts were broken. "Do you want your revenge?" asked Louise. "Revenge, _certainement_, but could there be revenge?" "I tell you there can," said Louise. "I failed, but you can succeed. You, Félicité Close, will receive me in your _Cabinet de Beauté_ to-morrow, and behold, you will manicure my hands, and while so doing, I--I myself will enlighten you and you shall avenge yourselves upon the Comte." "_C'est bien, c'est bien_," murmured M'selle Blanc. "At two o'clock to-morrow I will arrive," said Louise. "Keep me not waiting, I beseech of you, M'selle Close and M'selle Blanc. I will teach you both how to avenge yourselves on M'sieur le Comte at the Château St. Juste." Accordingly Louise returned home in the highest spirits, and wrote a letter of rapture to Tilly at Clapham Common. "There is still of the hope," she wrote, "the hope that never dies. Keep up your spirits, Matilda Raynes. Most unexpectedly has the hope arisen. It fills the sky like the most beautiful sunset. Behold, it is golden and close at hand. I shall have earned my sixty francs, and thou wilt invite me to thy château of renown in the aristocratic quarter called Clapham Common. I will visit you in Angleterre, and in Clapham Common we shall clasp hands and meet heart to heart."