"There's only Mademoiselle," said the butler--"the governess, sir." Charles Wargrave felt disposed to knock the fellow down for his impertinence; he had scarcely patience to desire him to show the way. How dared he speak of a lady so--a lady better than any one in the house, the pampered menial? He made the man an impatient sign to get out of the way when they came to the top of the house to the schoolroom door, which was sufficiently pointed out by the sound of cheerful voices within. He knocked, smiling to himself at the little Babel of noise, two or three speaking together; and was bidden to come in by a voice with a faint little _parfum_ of foreignness in its sound, so faint as to be only discernible by the sharpest ears. A sudden flush came to his face as he heard it. It was not a voice, he thought, like the others. It was full of sweetness and yet of power--a voice round and harmonious like the notes of an organ, with nothing shrill or thin or common in it; a voice which suddenly brought before him again, not the dowdy governess, but the white-robed ministering angel. He felt himself flush with pleasure and expectation as he opened the door. Mademoiselle was sitting opposite pouring out the tea. She had her back to the light, and he saw her in a kind of relief against the large window--the shape of her head, her hair a little loosened, not quite smoothed upon her brow, in the shining perfection of the other day. He saw her face in a luminous shadow, clear yet dusky, her eyes looking down, somewhat deeply set, the oval of their form and the hollow under the eyebrow clearly defined. She had not perceived him, nor did she even look up to see who was coming in in obedience to her invitation. It was only when the children made a sudden pause in their chatter with a cry of, "O Uncle Charles!" that Mademoiselle raised her eyes and stopped, with teapot in hand, to see who it was. "Yes, it's me," he said, more cheerfully than grammatically. "I heard you were here, and I thought I'd ask Mademoiselle's permission to come in--and, perhaps, get a cup of tea----" "Oh, come in, Charles," said Mrs Wargrave; "I'll answer for it you shall be welcome: we are all glad of anything to break the monotony of a long day."