“Thank you,” answered the lady softly. “I should be very grateful, and you will not repent your kindness.” This time Mary dropped a curtsey. She began to see that the other was a perfect lady. “If you would tell me your room, miss, I would bring you down news of the poor gentleman every three hours or so. As I am to wait upon the nurse I shall know exactly how he is going on.” “Thank you; I should be very glad. I am just below, the first room on the right as you go down.” “And what name, if you please?” There was a slight hesitation, and then the answer came loud and clear. “Miss Mordaunt. And Mary----” hesitatingly. “Yes, miss.” “If he should be hopelessly bad, you will call me, will you not? Even if it should be the middle of the night, come to me all the same. I should die of a broken heart if I were not to see him at the last.” “I promise I will call you, miss; but let’s hope for better things,” she added encouragingly. “He looks like a strong gentleman, and I don’t suppose there’s any call to spare expense.” This she said to find out Colonel Dacre’s means, and Miss Mordaunt’s reply was very satisfactory. “Not the least in the world! He is a rich man, and there is no reason why he should not have everything in the world he wants.” “I am glad of that, poor gentleman! I’m sure I would do anything for him whether he had money or not, he is so kind and pleasant-spoken; but, then, in an hotel, they have to be particular, and Monsieur Bause is only manager, and is responsible to the company, you see.” “Nobody could blame him for being particular,” answered Miss Mordaunt; “but, in this case, he has nothing to fear.” “Oh! no, miss, I am sure he hasn’t,” replied Mary, with confidence. “And the poor gentleman will be done justice by, for Monsieur Bause has already locked up all his money and rings, for fear of accidents. Not that he is afraid of our taking them,” she added quickly; “but, you see, in a large house like this there are so many people in and out.” “Exactly! and it is better to be too careful than not careful enough,” said Miss Mordaunt, casting a very wistful glance toward the door of the sick-room, as she prepared to depart. “You will come down and tell me what the doctor thinks about Colonel Dacre this afternoon, Mary.” “Certainly, miss; you may quite trust me. I shall be in and out continually, even after the nurse comes.” Miss Mordaunt went away then, very slowly and softly, like a person who has a great trouble at heart, and, looking after her, until only the tip of her aristocratic nose was visible, Mary said to herself: “I shouldn’t wonder if she is a duchess in disguise. Anyhow, she is a real, born lady, and knows how to behave, so I can’t do better than serve her; and if the poor gentleman ever gets well, and he’s as fond of her as she is of him, why, I dare say there will be something coming in from both sides.”