"I consider artists and writers gentlemen," she retorted--"gentlemen of a far higher stamp than those to whom fortune has given money and nature has denied brains." Another time a sharp argument would have resulted from the throwing down of such a gantlet. Sir Oswald had something else in view, so he allowed the speech to pass. "It will be a great pleasure for me to see my old friend's son again," he said. "I hope, Pauline, you will help me to make his visit a pleasant one." "What can I do?" she asked, brusquely. "What a question!" laughed Sir Oswald. "Say, rather, what can you not do? Talk to him, sing to him. Your voice is magnificent, and would give any one the greatest pleasure. You can ride out with him." "If he is a clever, sensible man, I can do all that you mention; if not, I shall not trouble myself about him. I never could endure either tiresome or stupid people." "My young friend is not likely to prove either," said Sir Oswald, angrily; and Miss Hastings wondered in her heart what the result of it all would be. That same evening Miss Darrell talked of Captain Langton, weaving many bright fancies concerning him. "I suppose," she said, "that it is not always the most favorable specimens of the English who visit Paris. We used to see such droll caricatures. I like a good caricature above all things--do you, Miss Hastings?" "When it is good, and pains no one," was the sensible reply. The girl turned away with a little impatient sigh. "Your ideas are all colorless," she said, sharply. "In England it seems to me that everybody is alike. You have no individuality, no character." "If character means, in your sense of the word, ill-nature, so much the better," rejoined Miss Hastings. "All good-hearted people strive to save each other from pain." "I wonder," said Pauline, thoughtfully, "if I shall like Captain Langton! We have been living here quietly enough; but I feel as though some great change were coming. You have no doubt experienced that peculiar sensation which comes over one just before a heavy thunder-storm? I have that strange, half-nervous, half-restless sensation now." "You will try to be amiable, Pauline," put in the governess, quietly. "You see that Sir Oswald evidently thinks a great deal of this young friend of his. You will try not to shock your uncle in any way--not to violate those little conventionalities that he respects so much." "I will do my best; but I must be myself--always myself. I cannot assume a false character." "Then let it be your better self," said the governess, gently; and for one minute Pauline Darrell was touched. "That sweet creature, Lady Hampton's niece, will be here next week," she remarked, after a short pause. "What changes will be brought into our lives, I wonder?" Of all the changes possible, least of all she expected the tragedy that afterward happened. CHAPTER VIII. THE INTRODUCTION.