“Mais oui,” she said, “that is to say at least, I have always thought so.” Evidently the contrary had never occurred to her. But a bright idea struck her. “I go to ask Thérèse,” she said; “she spoke much with Mademoiselle. Without doubt Mademoiselle will have told her if it were not so.” And the old woman disappeared for the second time. In a few minutes she returned, bringing her daughter to assist at the consultation. Ralph heard their voices chattering shrilly along the passage, and a few words reached him. “Aux Indes,” “la petite demoiselle,” “Mais non, ma mère, assurément,” and so on. Those few moments seemed hours to him! Thérèse’s opinion to some extent relieved him of this new terror. Though on close cross-examination she did not appear to have very certain grounds for her belief, yet the impression she had received while the little family was with them, was evidently that the young lady was not going to India, was not, in fact, a permanent member of Mrs. Archer’s household. “That I am aware of,” said Ralph; “all I want to know is, did she ever allude in any way to India, or to her perhaps going there?” But Thérèse could not remember that she had ever done so. So with this negative satisfaction, Ralph was forced to be content, and thanking the mother and daughter for their good-nature, went his way, the precious envelope in his hand, to think over what next to do. After all he decided, there was nothing for it but to write again. This time, of course, to the right address. The same objections remained in full force against his going to England and trying there to find Marion for himself. So he wrote at once. Two letters. One to Mrs. Archer, enclosing, as before, another to Marion. Then, unfortunately, he changed his mind, and sent them separately. That to Miss Freer, to the care of Mrs. Archer, &c. That to Cissy, merely a few words, begging her at once to send him Miss Freer’s address, or if by any possibility she were actually accompanying Mrs. Archer to India, to let him know whence and how they were going. If from Marseilles, he would start at a moment’s notice to meet them there on their way. This letter reached Cheltenham a few days after Cissy had left. It lay for some time in the senior Mrs. Archer’s house, that lady being ill or away from home, and was then sent on to India, where Cissy received it by the same mail as another letter from Ralph sent to India direct, which we shall hear about presently. The other letter, that directed to Miss Freer, never reached its destination, never, at least, as we have seen, came to Marion’s hands. Its history was never known. Probably enough it arrived at Mrs. Archer’s house, and some stupid or officious servant, seeing the unfamiliar name, may have said, after the manner of her kind, it was “not for us,” and sent the poor letter adrift again. CHAPTER IX. RALPH (continued.)