“Prince Polignac, my dear. Well, I really don’t know, M. Lacordaire;—I have seen a great deal of the place already, and I shall be going now very soon; probably in a day or two,” said Mrs. Thompson. “But madame must positively see the château,” said M. Lacordaire, very impressively; and then after a pause he added, “If madame will have the complaisance to commission me to procure a carriage for this afternoon, and will allow me the honour to be her guide, I shall consider myself one of the most fortunate of men.” “Oh, yes, mamma, do go,” said Mimmy, clapping her hands. “And it is Thursday, and Lilian can go with us.” “Be quiet, Mimmy, do. Thank you, no, M. Lacordaire. I could not go to-day; but I am extremely obliged by your politeness.” M. Lacordaire still pressed the matter, and Mrs. Thompson still declined till it was time to rise from the table. She then declared that she did not think it possible that she should visit the château before she left Le Puy; but that she would give him an answer at dinner. The most tedious time in the day to Mrs. Thompson were the two hours after breakfast. At one o’clock she daily went to the school, taking Mimmy, who for an hour or two shared her sister’s lessons. This and her little excursions about the place, and her shopping, managed to make away with her afternoon. Then in the evening, she generally saw something of M. Lacordaire. But those two hours after breakfast were hard of killing. On this occasion, when she gained her own room, she as usual placed Mimmy on the sofa with a needle. Her custom then was to take up a novel; but on this morning she sat herself down in her arm-chair, and resting her head upon her hand and elbow, began to turn over certain circumstances in her mind. “Mamma,” said Mimmy, “why won’t you go with M. Lacordaire to that place belonging to the prince? Prince—Polly something, wasn’t it?” “Mind your work, my dear,” said Mrs. Thompson. “But I do so wish you’d go, mamma. What was the prince’s name?” “Polignac.” “Mamma, ain’t princes very great people?” “Yes, my dear; sometimes.” “Is Prince Polly-nac like our Prince Alfred?” “No, my dear; not at all. At least, I suppose not.” “Is his mother a queen?” “No, my dear.” “Then his father must be a king?” “No, my dear. It is quite a different thing here. Here in France they have a great many princes.” “Well, at any rate I should like to see a prince’s château; so I do hope you’ll go.” And then there was a pause. “Mamma, could it come to pass, here in France, that M. Lacordaire should ever be a prince?” “M. Lacordaire a prince! No; don’t talk such nonsense, but mind your work.” “Isn’t M. Lacordaire a very nice man? Ain’t you very fond of him?” To this question Mrs. Thompson made no answer. “Mamma,” continued Mimmy, after a moment’s pause, “won’t you tell me whether you are fond of M. Lacordaire? I’m quite sure of this,—that he’s very fond of you.”