Both started, then each looked surprised at the other for doing so. Mr Thurston was the first to speak--it seemed to Miss Eyrecourt, that he was eager to conceal the slight momentary disturbance of his equilibrium. His words were addressed to Miss Bessie, but Roma felt that she was intended to listen to them. "I remember your friend, Mademoiselle Berard, very well, Miss Montmorris," he said. "And an excellent creature she is. The Laurences are old friends of mine. I thought them most fortunate in meeting with Mademoiselle Berard, for of course motherless girls require extra care. Do you happen to know where she is now? Somewhere in the South of France was her home, I think, was it not?" He engaged Miss Bessie in recalling how long it was since she had heard from "Mademoiselle," what she had then said as to her plans, etc, and rather mischievously muddled the poor thing with questions exposing the extremely limited state of her acquaintance with French geography. So that in a few minutes Miss Bessie felt not indisposed to retire from the field and gave, subsequently, in the family council, as her opinion of "Christy's friend," that he was a "heavy, prosy young man, quite without conversation." When she was safely off his hands, engaged in an amicable sisterly discussion with Mrs Christian across the table as to the precise hour at which Mr Beamish, the family apothecary, had called this morning, and about what o'clock to-morrow it was thought probable the last eye-tooth would appear, Mr Thurston returned to Roma. "After all," he said, smiling. "I quite agree with you, the world is _very_ small." Roma laughed. "I certainly did not expect to have an instance of the truth of my quotation so very soon," she said. "I met the Laurences when I was staying at Wareborough just now. I see you know them too." "Very well indeed," he replied. "You will not wonder so much at my evident interest in what Miss Montmorris was talking about when I tell you that one of the Miss Laurences is engaged to be married to my brother--my only brother. He is a curate at Wareborough. Perhaps you met him too?" Roma's face expressed extreme surprise, and to any one well enough acquainted with her to read a little below the surface, it would have been plain, that at first, the surprise was not of a disagreeable kind.