"But will mama like that, do you think?" asked Theresa doubtfully. "Of course she will like it, and Selina too. They have perfect confidence in me," said Frederica firmly. "And as for Prickly Polly,"-- she shrugged her shoulders. "But no, my children! What shall I say to your papa when you shall be brought home in little morsels, and the carriage, and your dear mama!" And Theresa clasped her hands, and threw back her head with an air so ludicrously like Mrs Ascot, that her sister laughed merrily. "She will go to church to-day. What if we should meet her?" "Oh! she would be sure to go back with us. Let us go down the other way!" Laughing and running, the girls turned into a narrow street. In their haste they ran against a little old gentleman just stepping out from an office door. They did not quite overturn him, but they startled him out of his good manners, and he uttered an angry exclamation in French. Then, as they turned to apologise, he exclaimed, "The young ladies Vane! What next, I wonder?" "Mr St. Cyr! a thousand pardons." They had been speaking English all the way down the street, but they spoke French to him, and both the girls dropped their very best curtseys. "It must be that my little cousins have come to get their wills made, or their marriage contracts drawn, in all this haste." Mr St. Cyr was the gentleman to whom their grandfather had committed the arrangement of his affairs; it was he who still managed the property; and through his hands their mother's income came still. "I was going to church this morning, but I shall be happy to defer it for you. You need not have been in such haste, however." The girls laughed, and apologised again. "We were running away from Prickly Polly," said Theresa. "From Madame Marie Pauline Precoe Ascot," explained Frederica. "Is she coming after you? You had much better come in here," said Mr St. Cyr, pretending great fright. "Oh, no! But she is sure to go to church today, and we thought we might meet her. And if she knew we were going home, it might shorten her devotions." "If she knew we had a holiday, she would want to come home to vex us. We are not among her favourites--especially Fred." "Ah! that is it, is it?" said Mr St. Cyr. "She is hard on you, is she? I hope you do not let her trouble you too much." "By no means," said Frederica with dignity. "On the contrary, I think I trouble her far more." "I can conceive it possible," said Mr St. Cyr with a shrug. "But are you sure you can find your way home by these streets? See, I will go with you, and show you past the corner below. And let us hope that Madame Pauline will confess all her sins to-day; and I fancy that might ensure her absence till nightfall at least. And my young ladies, the next time you come to me in your troubles, pray don't begin by knocking me down."