"Yes, but not to-night. I am tired to-night," said Mr St. Cyr, leaning back wearily in his chair. "You shall not be troubled. See, I have thought of the men whose names are written here, and at an early day I shall see the judges as to their legal appointment. And you shall not be troubled. If you are not satisfied with my suggestions, of course you are at liberty to make what change in the names you please." "But their mother, by my advice, appointed their guardians in the manner prescribed by Mr St. Hubert's will; and nothing can supersede that appointment, you are aware." "If any trace of such an instrument is to be found," said Mr Jerome. "It is to be hoped it is to be found, or it may go badly with some of us," said Mr St. Cyr gravely. "As to that I cannot say. But the court, under your direction and mine, can do all that is necessary, without reference to documents of doubtful justice." "The appointment must stand as it is," said Mr St. Cyr impatiently. "It is time you were retiring, is it not? You seem tired. Shall I help you?" "Thanks, I am not inclined to go yet." "Still I think you had better go. I shall speak to Babette, shall I not?" There was no reply; and he left the room. Listening intently to his receding footsteps, Mr St. Cyr rose with difficulty, and holding by the furniture, crossed the room to the cabinet in which Frederica, on her first visit, had seen so many beautiful and curious things. From a hidden compartment in one of its sides, he drew forth several papers, and looked eagerly and attentively over them. He had only time to replace them and return to his seat, before his brother came in again. "Your fire is bright in yon chamber. My brother, I entreat you to allow me to assist you thither, before I leave. I cannot divest myself of a feeling of responsibility with regard to that foolish young girl lingering in the street at this unseemly hour. I must see that she is safe at home. And I must hasten." "Thanks," said Mr St. Cyr, rising meekly. "You are most kind, but pray do not stay. Babette can do all that is necessary for me. I fancy myself better to-night." "Better," repeated his brother, as he went down the stairs. "I do not see it. For the present it is not necessary that you should be better. I can do your work for you, better than you can do it yourself. I have succeeded beyond hope--unless indeed, by some unimaginable chance, there should exist such an instrument as Cyprien asserts. Even then something might be done to put matters right, should I, and not Cyprien, guide them. We shall see." CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. Frederica reached home excited and breathless, and sat down to rest for a moment on the steps, before she went in. "Miss Frederica--Thank God," said old Dixen, coming out of the shadow where he had been waiting for the return of his young mistress in great anxiety. "All right, Dixen--only I am so tired, I cannot tell you about it now."