“Forgive me,” said he, penitently; “I will do anything for you, Agnes--take you away, if you wish; only let me go with you and see that you are properly cared for.” I shook my head. “Richard may seek to find you; you may fall again into his evil hands if you insist on going thus alone.” “Mr. Bristed,” said I, “thus far I have acted as you directed. I will depart at your solicitation; but further than this, I must be free. If Richard seeks me out, and I can aid him, I will do so. Degraded and fallen though he be, my love will not shrink from him. I will help him to rise.” “You are a noble woman, Agnes,” he said with a sad smile, “God protect you!” and he left me. As he went out, I heard him order the carriage. The serving-man came for my luggage, and I summoned courage to pay a farewell visit to Herbert. The poor little invalid became very much excited at seeing me, and clung so tightly about my neck that it was with effort I could leave. I did not then inform him of my intended departure, and with an aching heart and forced smile I parted from the dear sufferer. I met Mary in the hall; she told me Mr. Bristed had ordered her to accompany me on my journey. I did not want her company, my mind craved solitude; I would not have her. I sought her master, and told him so. “At a time like this I must be alone,” said I, excitedly; “I want no spy upon my actions. I will go wherever you wish me to go, but let me proceed alone.” “Well,” said he, musingly, “I desire but to serve you. Go to the town of M., present this letter according to its directions. You refuse my further aid, but if ever you need a friend, send for me; otherwise, I will never trouble you.” I answered that I would do as he requested, and with a heavy heart entered his carriage, which was waiting to drive me to the railway station. CHAPTER IX. I will pass over my journey, and the lonely, miserable days which succeeded my arrival in M. I made fruitless effort to obtain service, and waited and watched for an application in my dreary lodgings until my small hoard of wages was nigh exhausted. I had been in the city a fortnight, broken in spirit and dejected by want of success, when I happened to bethink me of the letter Mr. Bristed had given me. I took it from its undisturbed nook in my trunk, and having read the superscription, set about to find the party to whom it was addressed. The direction led me to a large manufacturing establishment. The gentleman to whom it was written appeared to be a foreigner. Having presented the epistle to him, he perused it hastily, then taking my hand with great eagerness, he exclaimed: “O Mees! I am greatly honored. Mons. Bristeed is my very good friend; I well acquaint with him in Paris. I congratulate you on having one so grand a gentleman for your acquaintance. He tell me you look for a school.” “Yes, sir,” said I, glad to find my tastes had been studied; “I do desire a school.”