“Well, it happened in the holidays, you see, and just afterwards there was a great piece of fuss about Miss Selina’s marriage and quarrel with Mrs. Harper, so that put the thing aside; but we did hear through the servants,” and here she had the grace to redden, “that Miss West had ran away from school.” “And was that all?” “Well, Mrs. Leach, don’t you think it a good deal?” “Of course, of course!” impatiently, “shocking, abominable! But were there no details and no particulars--no reason given for her escapade?” “No; and Mrs. Harper and Miss Letitia, when I asked them plump out one day, when I was staying in the neighbourhood and was having supper with them, denied it most emphatically. They were quite _angry_.” “Oh!” exclaimed Mrs. Leach, with a gasp of disappointment. “Hushed it up for the credit of the school, eh?” “No, they said Miss Selina had made dreadful mischief, and been the cause of Madeline being sent away for a little time; but we have never heard Miss Selina’s version of the story,” she added expressively. “Where is _she_ now?” “Oh, she married a clergyman much younger than herself, and has gone to the South Sea islands.” “Yes, well out of the way. And are you intimate with Miss West?” “No; we had a quarrel the last year she was at school with me, and did not speak for months.” “What was it about?” “Oh, something trivial--hairpins, I think, or not passing the butter; but I never really liked her. Still, for old times’ sake, I have sometimes thought of calling. My aunt, Lady Mac Weasle, knows her, and says the Wests give magnificent entertainments and go everywhere.” “Yes?” “I’ve seen her driving in the Park, beautifully dressed; but I am sure she is painted. Perhaps some day I shall call, or rather get my aunt to take me.” “Well, dear, there is the first dressing-bell, so I must send you away. Good-bye, for the present. I have enjoyed this little chat so much, you have such a way of interesting one.” And really, for once, Mrs. Leach was speaking the pure and unadulterated truth. CHAPTER XXVIII. A PORTIÈRE WHICH INTERVENED. Mr. West was ably nursed, he was wiry, and he struggled back to a most trying, peevish convalescence, greatly hastened by Mrs. Leach’s assiduous attentions; and early in January he was ordered off to the Riviera without delay. He was to go to Nice, and, of course, he was not to go alone. Madeline would accompany him. What would Laurence say to this? In her father’s present precarious state of health, she dared not tell him her news, it would be too great a shock; and yet she almost dreaded facing her husband with another excuse. Laurence was not to be trifled with, still less her father. What an unlucky creature she was! she said to herself tearfully. Between these two men, who had such claims upon her, what was she to do? Which was to be sacrificed, father or husband? And then there was little Harry.