"Mamma, you need not take the half of it for gospel. Madame de Mellissie is so wrapped up in her son, that if his finger aches she sends for a doctor, and asks whether it will mortify." "Child! I must recommend you to go," was the impressive response of Lady Chandos. "Of course I shall go; I never meant to hesitate," came the peevish answer. "But it is excessively tiresome." It appeared that the letter to Mr. Chandos was also from Madame de Mellissie, asking him to urge his sister's instant departure. She finished her breakfast, and was leaving the room to prepare, when she saw me following. "I do not want you just now, Miss Hereford. Pauline will see to my things." "But I have my own to pack." "Your own! What for? Alfred de Mellissie is not your husband, that you should hasten to him." "But—am I not to go with you, madam?" "Certainly not," was her emphatic answer. "It would be a needless expense and trouble." I felt dumbfounded. "But, Madame de Mellissie, what am I to do?" "Do! Why, stay here till my return. What else should you do? I shall be back in a few days at most. I know what Monsieur Alfred's danger is! Only, if I did not make the journey, madame la mère would hold me forth to all Paris as a model of barbarity. Mamma," she quickly added, turning to Lady Chandos, "I shall return here to finish my visit as soon as I can get away. It will not be a week before you will see me again. You can let Miss Hereford wait here for me, can't you? Can't you, Harry?" "Provided Miss Hereford will make herself at home with us, which I fancy she has not yet done," was the reply of Mr. Chandos, looking at me with a smile. Lady Chandos simply bowed her head. "Oh, she is one who always gives you the notion of being shy," carelessly replied Emily, as she ran up the staircase. What was I to do? I could not say to her, "You shall take me;" but, after the conversation I had overheard, it was most unpleasant to me to stay. I ran after Emily. I told her that my remaining might not be really agreeable to Lady and Mr. Chandos. Her reply was, that they must make it agreeable, for there was no accommodation for me at Madame de Mellissie's. "Look here, Anne; don't you be shy and stupid. I cannot drop you in the street like a waif, en route, and I cannot take you home. Suppose Alfred's illness should turn to typhus fever? would it be well for you to be there? But there's no room for you, and that's the fact." I disclosed to her my penniless condition, for some of my poor twenty-five shillings had melted on the journey from Paris, and I had but fifteen left. I begged her to lend me some money, and I would find my way alone to Nulle. Emily laughed heartily, but she did not give me any. "I shall be back next week, child. Make yourself easy."