repeated Clodagh, touching the letters, as she did so, "B," the last, first. Then she shut her eyes, and when she looked again--yes--there they were, the two neat capacious trunks, as before. "Oh," she said, with a sigh of delight. "It is too good to be true! How can I thank you?" But as she looked up, holding out her hands in gratitude, lo and behold--Cousin Felicity had vanished. Glancing round quickly, however, Clodagh fancied she saw a shadow of something disappearing at the turn in the passage. Whether this was so or not, who can say? [Illustration: Lo and behold--Cousin Felicity had vanished.] "I will thank her again when we meet downstairs," thought the girl, little imagining that this was not to be. Just then the door behind her opened, and Paulina, her eyes still but half-awake, peeped out. "Oh, child," she said, "is it late? You up and dressed already! I must hurry." "There is plenty of time," Clodagh replied. "It is still early." "How well and bright you look!" Paulina exclaimed. "You must have slept well. So unlike my last travelling companion--that silly Pélagie--not of course, dear, that I mean to compare you with a maid-servant--but the airs she gave herself! She could never sleep the first night in a strange place, nor the last, because she was nervous about the pack----Oh," she broke off, "I see you've got rid of all the old bags and bandboxes. What a good thing! I didn't know you had such a nice sensible trunk, so neat, and just like mine." "Yes," said the young girl. "It really holds more than I require. I have planned it all, Paulina. You shall never have any trouble about the luggage if you will leave the whole to me." "I shall only be too thankful to do so," said her cousin lazily. "I think you are a genius, my dear. The way you have arranged my dresses and everything is simply perfection." Half an hour or so later, the two, summoned by the breakfast gong, made their way downstairs, where most of the family were already assembled, and as the others dropped in, Clodagh looked round eagerly for her new-old friend. But come she did not, and after a short delay Mrs. Marriston turned to her elder daughter. "Thomasine, my dear," she said. "I think you had better go upstairs to enquire for Cousin Felicity and offer to escort her. I scarcely like to begin breakfast without her, for fear of seeming to lack respect." For those old-fashioned days were very ceremonious and any want of deference to the eccentric old lady was not to be thought of. Thomasine went at once, but in a very few minutes returned alone, holding a scrap of paper in her hand, looking somewhat disconcerted, though she was half laughing also. "She has gone!" she exclaimed, "bag, baggage and all, leaving this." Mrs. Marriston took the paper eagerly. "Oh, _can_ we have offended her?" she said anxiously, but a moment after, she too laughed. "No, I see it is all right," she went on, reading aloud the note in her hand.