It will be remembered that her person, her present position, both were equally unknown to this lady, who alone knew her by name. Her success was greater than she had at first ventured to hope. _Lingères_ and ladies'-maids soon open a conversation together, especially as Mary, having so much at stake, threw off all her usual reserve, and became a perfect Parisienne in manner. She came, she said, having heard Milady Vaughan was making up a _trousseau_, in hopes some of her _lingèrie_ might be worthy of a place in it--taking care, however, to give a wrong name and address. After the usual preliminary of presenting the attendant with a handsome collar, to propitiate her good-will, she learned, with a tremor at first, which ended in amazement and joy, that Lady Dora was going very shortly to be married, but positively to Milord Randolph Gray, who was then in Paris; and the _soubrette_, warmed by the handsome present she had received, threw off all reserve, and spoke in raptures--true Parisian raptures--of her lady's beauty, and the justice it was meeting at the hands of a celebrated painter, a Monsieur Tremenhere, who was pourtraying her as Diana, to please Milord Randolph. Mary could scarcely contain herself in the bounds of moderation, at this, to her, delightful intelligence; she abridged the visit as much as possible, promising to call again in a few days with more patterns, as Lady Dora was then out. She flew almost to poor Minnie's abode, to whom every moment had been as days. When Mary entered the room, her eyes were wild and excited; one glance, however, sufficed. Minnie read so much real joy in the other's kind face, that she fell back on her pillow almost fainting, from her previously overwrought feelings. "Cheer up, madam--dear madam, I bring you joyful news!" exclaimed the other; and she hurriedly related all she had heard.