“I think it rite to let you no, as little Harry has been verry poorly the last two days; in case he is not better I think you ought to know, and mite wish to come home. It’s his back teath. The Docter looked very cerrius last evening, and spoke of konvulshions, but I don’t wish to frighten you. “I am your humble servant, “KATE HOLT.” This was a heavy blow. The rush of maternal impulse swept everything else out of her mind. Madeline thrust aside her diamonds, ball dress, masks, bouquets, and hurried off on foot to the telegraph office, and despatched a message--“If he is not better I start to-night; reply paid.” And then she returned to the Villa Coralie, quivering and trembling with impatience. In case of the worst, she told Josephine to pack a few things, as she might be going to England that night by the Rapide. Josephine’s jaw dropped; she was enjoying herself enormously. One of the waiters at the Cercle was her cousin. The carnival was just commencing; this was terrible--must she he torn away too! Her face expressed her feelings most accurately, and her mistress hastened to reassure her. “I shall not require you, Josephine; I only go to see a sick friend. If I hear no good news, I start this evening; if the tidings are better, I remain--but I am almost sure to go.” “Et monsieur?” elevating hands and eyebrows. Yes, how was she to announce her departure to her father? She made the plunge at once. Her fears and her anxieties were not on his account now. She was desperate, and ready to brave anything or anybody. She ran down into his cool sanctum, with its wide-open windows overlooking the bay, its gaudy, striped awnings, and verandah full of flowers, and finding her parent smoking a cigarette and absorbed in the _Financial News_, began at once. “Papa, I’ve had bad news from England. A--one who is very dear to me is ill, and if I don’t hear better news by telegram, I wish to start to-night for London.” “Madeline!” he cried, laying down the paper and gazing at her in angry astonishment. “What are you thinking about? Your sick friend has her own relatives; they would never expect _you_ to go flying to her bedside from the other end of France. Nonsense, nonsense!” he concluded imperatively, once more taking up the news, and arranging his _pince-nez_ with grave deliberation. The matter was decided. But Madeline was resolved to make an equal show of determination, and said, in a stubborn tone-- “Papa, in this I must have my way. It is not often I take my own course; I do everything and go everywhere to please you. You must allow me to please myself for once.” Mr. West pushed back his chair a full yard, and gazed at his daughter. “Do not throw any obstacle in my way, papa, nor seek to know where I am going.” “Ah, ah! Not a lover, I hope, madam?” he gasped. “The curate, the--the drawing-master?”