’Voyez!’ said Mirelle, ’I have picked a lovely bouquet of ferns and moss and wild flowers on my way. We have no ferns in France, at least I have never seen such. In this one particular you surpass us.’ She showed her bunch. The white heath was not there. ’Oh!’ exclaimed Herring, incautiously, ’the best flower of all has fallen—the white heath.’ ’So it is,’ said Mirelle. ’I am sorry; my hand was full.’ ’Shall I go back for it?’ ’No, it has fallen in the mire, and is trodden under foot. I shall doubtless find my own good luck some day myself.’ *CHAPTER VI.* *THAT OLD TRAMPLARA.* As they entered the garden, Mirelle was about to take Cicely’s arm, and walk round it with her, looking at the flowers, when John Herring stayed her— ’Excuse me, Countess, I must trouble you one moment. I think it time that we should make an attempt to find out your father’s relatives or connections in England.’ ’I do not suppose that he had any.’ ’Why not?’ ’He did not speak to me of any. Besides, these people do not hang together like persons who have pedigrees.’ ’But something must be done. Whither are you to go? What is to become of you?’ ’Comme le bon Dieu veut!’ ’You cannot remain here till some one turns up to claim you.’ ’Why not?’ Mr. Herring was staggered. He could not reply, and say that she was trespassing on the hospitality of entire strangers. She turned to continue her walk. ’That is a fine orange lily,’ she said to Cicely. ’You must really allow me to detain you,’ pursued Herring. ’All I ask now is, may Mr. Battishill and I look through your father’s desk that is in his trunk? His bunch of keys has been given to you. Will you open the desk, or shall we do it with your sanction?’ ’Do what you like, Mr. Fish.’ Cicely looked reprovingly at Mirelle, and ventured on a correction. ’Mr. Herring, you mean.’ Mirelle’s cheek tinged faintly. ’I beg your pardon, sir. Your name had escaped me. I am not yet familiar with English names, which seem to me harsh or grotesque. I remembered that you belonged to the fishes, but to which particular family of fish I did not recall.’ Herring bit his lip, then said quietly, ’Would you prefer opening your father’s desk yourself, Countess?’ ’Mon Dieu, non!’ ’Then will you give me the key, and allow us to examine the contents of the desk?’ ’Certainly. But I do not know which is the key. Here, take the bunch, and do as you will.’ Then she turned impatiently round, and walked away. When Herring had entered the house, Cicely said gently, ’I think, Mirelle, you are bound to try and remember poor Mr. Herring’s name.’ ’Why should I? It in no way concerns me.’ ’But you hurt his feelings. I saw he was pained.’