At eleven o’clock the fly-man notified that time was up, and the lady must go if she wanted to catch her train. She kissed little Harry over and over again, and wept one or two tears as she said-- “How I wish I could take him with me, even if I could smuggle him as my maid’s little boy!” “Sakes and stars! Mrs. Wynne,” exclaimed Mrs. Holt, angrily. “Whatever are you thinking of? I wish his father heard you pass him off as a servant’s child. Well, upon my word! I never----” At this crisis words ran short and utterance completely failed her. “Mind you write to me often, Mrs. Holt--even one line. I have left you a packet of addressed and stamped envelopes. Please write at least once a week,” and, with a hurried good-bye she stepped into the fly, pulled down her veil, and was driven off, leaving Mrs. Holt and her son upon the steps, the former exclaiming-- “Well, if she don’t beat all!” whilst Master Wynne dragged violently at her apron, and, pointing to the rapidly disappearing carriage, shouted gleefully-- “Gee-gee! Gee-gee!” * * * * * “It is all right, my dear,” whispered Mrs. Leach, receiving her with a significant nod. “I told your father you had gone to lunch with the Countess of Cabinteely, and he was perfectly satisfied.” In another week Madeline was very pleasantly settled in a charming villa at Nice looking out over the blue tideless sea and the Promenade des Anglais. She had a landau and pair, a pony carriage, and an “at home” day, for not a few of their London acquaintances, early as it was, had come south. Her father rapidly regained his usual health and amiability, and lavished presents upon her. The horizon before her was literally and metaphorically bright. She was surrounded by quite a brilliant pageantry of flatterers and followers, and could not help feeling a pardonable pride in the sensation she created and in her remarkable social triumphs--in finding bouquets left daily at her door, in seeing her name in enthusiastic little paragraphs in the local papers, in hearing that the fact of her expected presence brought numbers to an assembly or entertainment in order to see the lovely Miss West, to know that she had not an ambition in the world unfulfilled.