There was a large party given one night at a Scotch laird's, Sir Sandy Maxwell, and Miss Seymour and Rose were invited. You may be aware, perhaps, that it is the custom in French schools, generally speaking, for the pupils to visit or not, according to the directions left by the parents. This had been accorded to Rose by Mrs. Darling; and Eleanor Seymour was not as a schoolgirl--therefore Madame de Nino, though openly expressing her disapprobation of these large parties while young ladies were pursuing their studies, did not refuse. Emma Mowbray offered a bet to the school that Mr. Marlborough would dance more dances with Rose than with Eleanor; and so eager were the girls to hear the result, that those in the large _dortoir_ kept awake until they came home. It had struck one o'clock, and Madame was up in arms; she had only given them to half-past eleven, and they had kept the coach waiting all that time, while Madame's own maid, old Félicité, was inside it. After all, there was nothing to hear, for Mr. Marlborough had not made his appearance at the party. Class was not over the next morning until very late; it always was late just before giving the prizes. It was the third Thursday in August, the _sorti_ day, and three of the girls were going with Eleanor to dine at Mrs. Marlborough's: Rose, Mary Carr, and Adeline de Castella. The invitations were left to Miss Seymour, and she always fixed on Rose, in a sort of bravado, but she never once chose Emma Mowbray; and this gave that young lady considerable offence, as was known to the school. They were to partake of the usual dinner at school by way of luncheon, the Marlboroughs not dining until six. While the cloth was being laid, the girls dispersed about, some in the courtyard, some in the garden, all in the shade, for it was very sultry. There was certainly something more than common the matter with Rose: she appeared half-crazy with joy. "It is because she's going out," remarked Mary Carr to Eleanor. "Is it, though!" put in Emma Mowbray; "that's only a little item in the cause. She has just had a love-letter from Mr. Marlborough." Eleanor Seymour's cheek changed. "Don't talk absurdities," said Mary Carr to the Mowbray girl. "Absurdities!" she retorted, moving away. "If I can, I'll convince you." A minute or two, and she came back with a letter in her hand--an open letter, addressed in George Marlborough's hand to Rose--and handed it to Mary Carr. "Am I to read it?" asked the latter. "If you choose. It is _pro bono publico_, Rose says." And Miss Carr read the letter aloud. "My Dearest,