The Baroness was there, early of course. She, and her husband, and the ill-used Bobby, occupied a table to themselves, whence she addressed her remarks to whomever she chose, whether they wished to listen, or not, and the Baron shelled her crevettes and buttered her pistolets for her. Margaret and Elinor were rather later than usual, for Mrs. Pullen had not passed a good night, and Miss Leyton would not have her disturbed. Harriet Brandt was there as they appeared, and beside her, a pale, unhealthy-looking young woman, whom she introduced as her friend, and travelling companion, Olga Brimont. “Olga did not wish to come down. She thought she would lie another day in bed, but I made her get up and dress, and I was right, wasn’t I, Mrs. Pullen?” “I think the fresh air will do Mademoiselle Brimont more good than the close bedroom, if she is strong enough to stand it!” replied Margaret, with a smile. “I am afraid you are still feeling weak,” she continued, to the new-comer. “I feel better than I did on board the steamer, or in London,” said Mademoiselle Brimont. She was an under-sized girl with plain features, and did not shew off to advantage beside her travelling companion. “Did you suffer so much from sea-sickness? I can sympathise with you, as I am a very bad sailor myself!” “O! no! Madame, it was not the _mal de mer_. I can hardly tell you what it was. Miss Brandt and I occupied a small cabin together, and perhaps, it was because it was so small, but I did not feel as if I could breathe there--such a terrible oppression as though some one were sitting on my chest--and such a general feeling of emptiness. It was the same in London, though Miss Brandt did all she could for me, indeed she sat up with me all night, till I feared she would be ill herself--but I feel better now! Last night I slept for the first time since leaving Jamaica!” “That is right! You will soon get well in this lovely air!” They all sat down at the same table, and commenced to discuss their rolls and coffee. Margaret Pullen, glancing up once, was struck by the look with which Harriet Brandt was regarding her--it was so full of yearning affection--almost of longing to approach her nearer, to hear her speak, to touch her hand! It amused her to observe it! She had heard of cases, in which young unsophisticated girls had taken unaccountable affections for members of their own sex, and trusted she was not going to form the subject for some such experience on Miss Brandt’s part. The idea made her address her conversation more to Mademoiselle Brimont, than to her companion of the evening before. “I suppose you and Miss Brandt were great friends in the Convent,” she said.