This done, she attempted to dress, but finding an elaborate toilet too much for her, she contented herself with a cool, white cambric wrapper, with rows of lace and embroidery down the front, and bows of delicate pink ribbon on the pockets and sleeves. Over this she threw a dainty Parisian jacket or sacque of the same hue, letting her dark wavy hair fall loosely down her back. She always wore it so when she had a headache, and she made a most beautiful and striking picture for Mrs. Jerry to contemplate when, in answer to her ring, that lady presented herself at the door to know what her mistress would have. Like most women, Mrs. Jerry had a hundred remedies for the headache, but Reinette wished for none of them. Nothing was of any avail until the pain ran its course, which it usually did in twenty-four hours, and all she asked was to be left in quiet in the library below, where she proposed going to wait for Mr. Beresford, whom Pierre found in his office and with him Phil Rossiter, the two talking together of the young lady at Hetherton Place and comparing their impressions of her. “Not so very pretty, but bright and agreeable, with a will of her own,” Mr. Beresford said, guardedly, remembering what Phil had predicted with regard to the immediate surrender of his heart to the foreigner. “Yes, and proud as Lucifer, too, or I’m mistaken,” answered Phil. “Why, I really believe she means to ride over us all. Odd, though, that she’d never heard of a soul of us. That snob of a Hetherton must have been a queer chap.” At this moment Pierre appeared in the door, bowing and gesticulating, and jabbering unintelligibly as he handed the note to Mr. Beresford, who read it aloud, while Phil said laughingly, though in reality he secretly felt aggrieved; “You see, it is you for whom she has sent. She does not care for me.” Strangely enough, notwithstanding his imperfect knowledge of English, Pierre understood the last part of Phil’s speech, and his gestures were more vehement than ever as he assured Phil that he was mistaken. Miss Reinette cared for him very much indeed, and had asked much about him, and noticed him at the grave, and when he went by on horseback. It was business alone which had prompted her to send for monsieur; later she would be most happy to see young monsieur, her cousin. Phil could not follow the old man readily, but he thought he made out that Reinette had sent this message to him, or something like it, and he changed his mind about starting for Martha’s Vineyard that afternoon, as he had half resolved to do. He would see Reinette first, and hear her speak to him face to face. “Tell her I shall be there some time to-day,” he said to his more fortunate friend, the lawyer, who, nothing loth to meet the glance of Reinette’s bright eyes once more, was soon riding rapidly toward Hetherton Place.