"Nice enough. Your father had good taste," the governess remarked, with another portentous yawn. "But what do I want with your trinkets? Eh? I have only to say the word to be bedecked with the family jewels." First pin, plunged well into the flesh. Gabrielle turned white, but did not abandon her purpose. "What harm have I ever done you?" she asked, quietly. "Harm!" echoed Aglae. "The harm of coming into the world, and making of yourself a perpetual nuisance. Nobody here wants you. Why can't you go out of it?" "I wish to be taught about Mesmer and his theories," pursued Gabrielle, with a courage which should have compelled respect. "Give me lessons and I will pay you." "_You_ pay me?" laughed Aglae amused. "My price might be too high for your purse." The marquise looked at the governess in mild surprise. Could it be that she did not know how the case stood with regard to money? It was not for her to enlighten the interloper. The fact was, that as the marquis received what he wanted, the subject of filthy lucre was never mentioned in the household. "The carriage has been ordered, and I will go with you to-day." She decided quietly. "What!" shrieked Aglae, tired of the interview. "You want to go to Montbazon? Do you know that we are going to operate upon old de Vaux? My poor soul! You would only be most desperately in the way, seeing how ignorant and in experienced you are. Come. Saints prefer the truth, I'm told, though I don't find it always pleasant; but then I'm not a saint, you see. I would have you realise that your method is deplorable. You have managed so ill as to drive the marquis from his own breakfast-table with your ridiculous woful airs. The luckless master of the house has been hunted from the dining-hall. For a saint, I call that ungenerous." Pin No. 2. "I may be incompetent to amuse--that is my misfortune," sighed the marquise; "but it is strange that one with so good a heart as he, should treat her so harshly who loves him with all her soul." "Love!" laughed the governess with insolence, much tickled. "You don't know what it means. How just it is that one so fair should be so brainless! All you could give him was the clammy affection of a fish. No wonder that anything so chilly should be returned with thanks." Gabrielle's cheeks began to burn, her eyes to sparkle. "It is not for you who eat my bread to shower insults on me! Till you came," she said, "we got on well enough. I took what he had to give with gratitude. I have endured too much from you, and know now that you are wicked. Beware lest you push me to extremity."