"Oh mamma," she cried, "have you heard? The Prince Imperial has invited me to his _gouter_, and my marraine and this gentleman are going to take me to St. Cloud! There is a little seat in the carriage which can be let down." Her voice wavered; perhaps she had already become aware of her mother's look of utter dismay, "You know that Marthe Pollain went last year, and the little Prince danced with her--I do wonder if he will dance with me!" She stopped, a little out of breath, and Madame Sampiero turned with a half-humorous, half-deprecating look at her cousin, "Come, Adela," she said, "surely you would never have the heart to refuse those pleading eyes?" But the words seemed to nerve Mrs. Rebell to instant decision. "No, Barbara," she said, in a very low tone. "My poor little girl--I cannot allow you to accept this invitation. It would make your father very very angry." And then, as the child, submitting at once, to Bosworth's admiring surprise, turned away, the tears running down her cheeks, the mother added, even more really distressed than was the nervous, excited little girl herself: "I am so very sorry, Barbara, but we will try to think of something to do to-morrow which you will like almost as well." Madame Sampiero bent towards the child. "Never mind, little Barbara," she said, her voice trembling a little, "only wait till you see me again, I will bring you the sweetest of playfellows! And some day I will myself persuade your father to let me take you to a real ball, at the Tuileries!" Turning to Mrs. Rebell, she added: "Julian and I both agree that in time, say in six or eight years, I should do very well to take some small château near Paris, and spend there part of each year. Julia will then be old enough to have masters, and I am sure, indeed we both think,"--she turned to the impassive man now walking slowly by her side,--"that I had better really try and make a half Frenchwoman of her, and perhaps ultimately, who knows, settle her in France!" Mrs. Rebell suddenly laughed. "Oh Barbara," she said, "how fond you have always been of making plans, of looking forward! Surely this is rather premature?" Madame Sampiero smiled. "English people," she said, quickly, "don't give half enough thought to the future. But, Adela, I was not only thinking of my Julia, but also of your little Barbara. Richard cannot mean her always to lead a cloistered life. In eight years she will be grown-up, eager to see something of the world. Where could she make her début so delightfully as at the Tuileries? Well, little Barbara"--and again she bent over the child--"look forward to the time when I shall be quite ready to play my _rôle_ of fairy godmother, and so introduce you to the most beautiful, the most brilliant, the most delightful Court in the world!"