“Let me help you, dear Miss Brandt! It is cruel that you should be driven from the house in this way! But I am going too, as soon as the doctor has been and dear Bobby’s body may be prepared for burial. It is a great grief to me, Miss Brandt; I have had the care of him since he was five years old, and I loved him like my own. But I am glad he is dead! I am glad he has escaped from it all, for this is a wicked house, a godless, deceiving and slanderous house, and this trouble has fallen on it as a Nemesis. I will not stay here a moment longer now he has gone! I shall join my friends to-morrow.” “I am glad you have friends,” said Harriet, “for I can see you are not happy here! Do they live far off? Have you sufficient money for your journey? Forgive my asking!” Miss Wynward stooped down and kissed the girl’s brow. “Thank you so much for your kind thought, but it is unnecessary. You will be surprised perhaps,” continued Miss Wynward, blushing, “but I am going to be married.” “And so am I,” was on Harriet’s lips, when she laid her head down on the lid of her trunk and began to cry anew. “Oh! Miss Wynward, what did she mean? Can there be any truth in it? Is there something poisonous in my nature that harms those with whom I come in contact? How can it be? _How_ can it be?” “No! no! of course not!” replied her friend, “Cannot you see that it was the Baroness’s temper that made her speak so cruelly to you? But you are right to go! Only, where are you going?” “I do not know! I am so ignorant of London. Can you advise me?” “You will communicate with your friends to-morrow?” asked Miss Wynward anxiously. “Oh! yes! as soon as I can!” “Then I should go to the Langham Hotel in Portland Place for to-night at all events! There you will be safe till your friends advise you further. What can I do to help you?” “Ask Sarah or William to fetch a cab! And to have my boxes placed on it! There is a _douceur_ for them,” said Harriet, placing a handsome sum in Miss Wynward’s hand. “And you will not see the Baroness again?” asked her companion. “No! no! for God’s sake, no. I could not trust myself! I can never look upon her face again!” In a few minutes the hired vehicle rolled away from the door, bearing Harriet Brandt and her possessions to the Langham Hotel, and Miss Wynward returned to the room where Bobby lay. Madame Gobelli stood exactly where she had left her, gazing at the corpse. There were no tears in her eyes--only the continuous shaking of her huge limbs. “Come!” said Miss Wynward, not unkindly, “you had better sit down, and let me bring you a glass of wine! This terrible shock has been too much for you.” But the Baroness only pushed her hand away, impatiently. “Who was that driving away just now?” she enquired. “Miss Brandt! You have driven her from the house with your cruel and unnecessary accusations. No one liked Bobby better than she did!” “Has the doctor arrived?” “I expect so! I hear the Baron’s voice in the hall now!”