That was all. Of course it had been very foolish in them to expect to see their brother, Fred and Tessie said to one another as they walked down the stairs; but when they came home and saw Selina's expectant face, they looked at one another in doubt again. Madame sat with them that evening, and exerted herself to amuse them and to withdraw their thoughts from their brother, and from Selina's foolish fancy about the voice she had heard. Miss Agnace was rarely with them when Madame was there, and when she went upstairs with them she would not linger to talk with them as she sometimes did. "You are not to listen to them or speak about this foolish fancy, and they will forget it," said Madame to her. "In a few days it will not matter what they know. But in the meantime they might complicate matters by discussing their affairs with other people. And remember, should any one call when I am out, the young ladies are engaged. And should it be impossible to deny any one, remember you must know all that may be said." Miss Agnace assented silently. "And when you go as usual to Mr St. Cyr's, remember you are to say nothing of this foolish fancy of Miss Selina's. He could do nothing, even if he understood; and they will soon be out of his hands, and the sooner the better for all concerned. You understand what I wish, do you not?" Again Miss Agnace assented in silence. She was by no means sure how all this would seem to her, when she should have time to think it over, but there was nothing to be said. She was not bound to obey blindly Madame Precoe's commands, except as they expressed the will of Father Jerome also; and in the single moment in which she permitted herself to question, a great many unhappy thoughts rushed into her mind. And they would not be put away, even when it became clear to her that for the plans with regard to the future of these children, and all that they involved, Father Jerome was responsible. Madame Precoe was but an instrument in his hands, as she herself was. Father Jerome must not be accused of doing wrong--at least, the end he had in view was right, and that ought to be enough. Ought it to be enough? Poor Sister Agnace had never been in the habit of deciding between right and wrong for herself, and she was sadly puzzled now. It was such a pity, she thought, that it was necessary to deceive these children for their good. There would be strong resistance on their part, she began to fear, to the power that was shaping their fate. "And they will suffer. Oh! how they will suffer?" said the poor anxious creature to herself. "But it is for their souls' sake, and their suffering will only be for this world; and surely, Mary and the saints will soften their trouble, poor darlings! Father Jerome must, of course, be right. But it hurts me to deceive them, because they love me a little, and trust me."