Mademoiselle Clarisse, the teacher who took them to church (and who took also a book hidden under her own arm to read surreptitiously during the sermon, not a word of which discourse could her French ears understand) came at last. As the school took its seats in the gallery of the church, the few who were in Rose's secret looked down with interest, for the gentleman in question was then coming up the middle aisle, accompanied by a lady and a little girl. "There he is!" whispered Rose to Eleanor, next to whom she sat, and her voice was as one glow of exultation, and her cheeks flushed crimson. "Going into the pew below. There: he is handing in the little girl. Do you see?" "Yes," replied Eleanor. "What of him?" "It is he. He whom the girls tease me about, my _fiancé_, as they call him, I trust my future husband. That he loves me, I am positive." Eleanor answered nothing. Her face was as red as Rose's just then; but Rose was too much occupied with something else to notice it. The gentleman--who was really a handsome young man--was looking up at the gallery, and a bright smile of recognition, meant for one of them, shone on his face. Rose naturally took it to herself. "Did you see that? _did_ you see that?" she whispered right and left. "Emma Mowbray, who took first notice now?" The service began. At its conclusion Rose pushed unceremoniously out of the pew, and the rest followed her, in spite of precedent, for the schools waited until last; and in spite of Mademoiselle Clarisse. But, on the previous Sunday, Rose had been too late to see him: he had left the church. On this, as the event proved, she was too early, for he had not come out; and Mademoiselle Clarisse, who was in a terrible humour with them for their rudeness, marched them home at a quick pace. "If ever truth and faith were in man, I know they are in him!" raved Rose, when they got home, and were in the dressing-room. "He'll make the best husband in the world." "You have not got him yet," cried Emma Mowbray. "Bah! Did you see the look and smile he gave me? Did _you_ see it, Miss Seymour?--and I don't suppose you are prejudiced against me as these others are. There was true love in that smile, if ever I saw love. That ugly Mademoiselle Clarisse, to have dragged us on so! I wish she had been taken with apoplexy on the steps! He---- Where's Miss Seymour gone to?" broke off Rose, for Eleanor had quitted the dressing-room without taking off her things. "I heard her say she was invited to dine at Mrs. Marlborough's," answered Mary Carr. "I say! there's the dinner-bell. Make haste, all of you! I wonder they don't ring it before we get home!"