"The Major ignores you; the boys worry you to death; my lady Joan orders you about as if she were a queen, and you her servant; only the little Pixie worships you as you deserve to be worshipped," reflected Mademoiselle mentally; but she kept her reflections to herself, and asked another question, the answer to which she was longing to hear with truly feminine curiosity. "And was that all,--the end of everything? What happened next? Have you not heard or seen him since that time?" The red flew over Bridgie's face, and she smiled--a soft, contented smile. "I have never seen him--no! Only a month after that he was ordered to India, and sailed almost at once, but he wrote to me before he left. A letter arrived one day in a strange handwriting, but I guessed almost at once that it was from him. He said he had intended to come to Ireland in the spring, and to call at Knock Castle, but that now it would be impossible for some years to come. He said he had enjoyed so much meeting me for those few days, and he hoped I should not altogether forget him while he was away. Would I allow him to write to me now and again, and would I send a photograph for a poor exile to take away to comfort his loneliness? I had a very nice photograph that a friend of father had taken the summer before, and I thought there was no harm in sending him that, and writing a polite little note. It was very short, and I tried not to make it too nice, and I said nothing at all about writing, only just remarked that it would be interesting to receive letters from India," said Bridgie, with a naivete which made Mademoiselle throw up her hands in delight. "He has written to me four times since then, and,"--her eyes began to dance, and a dimple danced mischievously in her cheek--"I enjoy writing to him so much that I answer them the very next day; but it would not be proper to send them so soon, you know, so I put no date, but just lock them away in my desk, and wait for six weeks, or two months before I send them off. Once I waited for three, and then he sent a newspaper. There was nothing in it that could interest me in the least, but it was just a gentle hurry up. I did laugh over that newspaper!" "Bridgie, Bridgie! this is more serious than I thought. No wonder you look upon new-comers with indifference. I hope they are very interesting, those letters. They must be, I suppose, since you are so eager to reply." But at this Bridgie shook her head, and shrugged her shoulders deprecatingly.