“This, I am aware, Mademoiselle, was your view; the letter I hold here from Miss Courtenay shows me the very painful impression your opinion has produced; nor am I astonished at the warmth--and there is warmth--with which she observes: ‘Mademoiselle H. is under a delusion if she imagines that my brother-in-law was about to establish a nursery for prodigies. If the pigeon turns out to be an eagle, the sooner it is out of the dovecot the better.’ Very neatly and very smartly put. ‘If the pigeon-------’” “Enough of the pigeon, Sare. Where is she to go? who will take her in charge?” “I have not fully decided on the point, Mademoiselle, but by this evening I hope to have determined upon it; for the present, I have only to apprise you that Miss O’Hara is not to go to Italy, and that whatever arrangement should be necessary for her---either to remain in England, or to return to her family, will be made as promptly possible.” “And who will take her in charge, Sare?” said she, repeating the former question. Mr. M’Kinlay laid his hand over the region of his heart, and bowed; but whether he meant that he himself would undertake the guardianship of the young lady, or that the matter was a secret enclosed in his own breast, is not at all easy to say. “May I speak to her about this?” “Not until I shall see you again; but you may take all such measures as may prepare her for her sudden departure.” Mr. M’Kinlay was, throughout the brief interview, more despotic than gallant. He was not quite satisfied that the mission was one in perfect accordance with his high professional dignity, and so to relieve himself from any self-reproach, he threw a dash of severity through his condescension. “I suppose,” said he, superbly--“I suppose she has clothes?” Mademoiselle stared at this, but did not reply. “I am somewhat unaccustomed, as you may perceive, Mademoiselle, to these sort of affairs; I know nothing of young ladies’ wardrobes. I simply asked, was she in a position to travel, if called on, at a brief notice?” “My poor Kate! my poor Kate!” was all that the governess could utter. “I must say, Mademoiselle,” said he, pompously, “that, looking to what she originally came from, and taking into account the care and cost bestowed upon her, I do not perceive this to be a case that calls for any deep commiseration.” “Poor child! poor child!” stammered she out; and, unable to control her emotion, she arose and left the room.