It was kind of him to say that, but I feared I had. That Mrs. Penn had contrived to give notice to Edwin Barley, or would contrive it, was only too probable. Once the house should be opened in the morning nothing could hinder her. Troubled and fearful, I had not spoken for some minutes, neither had he, when Madame de Mellissie's voice was heard in the hall, and he left the room. She came into it, crossing him on the threshold. Just casting an angry and contemptuous glance on me, she withdrew, and shut the door with a heavy bang, coming back again in a short while. "Closeted with my brother as usual!" she began, as if not one minute instead of ten had elapsed since seeing me with Mr. Chandos. "Why do you put yourself continuously in his way?" "Did you speak to me, Madame de Mellissie?" I asked, really doubting if the attack could be meant for me. "To whom else should I speak?" she returned, in a passionate and abrupt tone. "How dare you presume to seek to entangle Mr. Harry Chandos?" "I do not understand you, Madame de Mellissie. I have never yet sought to entangle any one." "You have; you know you have," she answered, giving the reins to her temper. "The letter I received warned me you were doing it, and that brought me over. You and he have dined alone, sat alone, walked alone; together always. Is it seemly that you, a dependent governess-girl, should cast a covetous eye upon a Chandos?" My heart was beginning to beat painfully. What defence had I to make? "Why did you leave me here, madam?" "Leave you here! Because it suited my convenience. But I left you here as a dependent: a servant, so to say. I did not expect you to make yourself to into yourself into my brother's companion." "Stay, Madame de Mellissie. I beg you to reflect a little before you reproach me. How could I help being your brother's companion, _when he chose to make himself mine_. This, the oak-parlour, was the general sitting-room; no other was shown to me for my use; was it my fault that Mr. Chandos also made it his? Could I ask to have my breakfast and dinner served in my bed-chamber?" "I don't care," she intemperately rejoined. "I say that had you not been lost to all sense of propriety, of the fitness of things, you would have kept yourself beyond the notice of Mr. Harry Chandos. To-morrow morning you will leave." "To whom are you speaking, Emily?" demanded a quiet voice behind us. It was his; it was his. I drew back with a sort of gasping sob. "I am speaking to Anne Hereford," she defiantly answered. "Giving her a warning of summary ejectment. She has been in the house rather too long!" "You might have moderated your tone, at any rate, Emily: and perhaps would, had you known to whom you were offering a gratuitous insult," he said, with admirable calmness. "I spoke to Anne Hereford." "Yes. And to my future wife." The crimson colour flashed into her beautiful face. "Harry!" "Therefore I must beg of you to treat Miss Hereford accordingly."