And very true was this. Even the announcement of the presentment by the grand jury appeared to give Mary Monson no great alarm. Perhaps she anticipated it from the first, and had prepared herself for the event, by an exercise of a firmness little common to her sex until the moments of extreme trial, when their courage would seem to rise with the occasion. On her companion, whom Timms had so elegantly styled her ‘Lady Friend,’ certainly as thoroughly vulgar an expression as was ever drawn into the service of the heroics in gentility, warm-hearted and faithful Marie Moulin, the intelligence produced far more effect. It will be remembered that Wilmeter overheard the single cry of “Mademoiselle” when this Swiss was first admitted to the gaol; after which an impenetrable veil closed around their proceedings. The utmost good feeling and confidence were apparent in the intercourse between the young mistress and her maid; if, indeed, Marie might thus be termed, after the manner in which she was treated. So far from being kept at the distance which it is usual to observe towards an attendant, the Swiss was admitted to Mary Monson’s table; and to the eyes of indifferent observers she might very well pass for what Timms had so elegantly called a “lady friend.” But Jack Wilmeter knew too much of the world to be so easily misled. It is true, that when he paid his short visits to the gaol, Marie Moulin sat sewing at the prisoner’s side, and occasionally she even hummed low, national airs while he was present; but knowing the original condition of the maid-servant, our young man was not to be persuaded that his uncle’s client was her peer, any more than were the jurors who, agreeably to that profound mystification of the common law, are thus considered and termed. Had not Jack Wilmeter known the real position of Marie Moulin, her “Mademoiselle” would have let him deeper into the secrets of the two than it is probable either ever imagined. This word, in common with those of “Monsieur” and “Madame,” are used, by French servants, differently from what they are used in general society. Unaccompanied by the names, the domestics of France commonly and exclusively apply them to the heads of families, or those they more immediately serve. Thus, it was far more probable that Marie Moulin, meeting a mere general acquaintance in the prisoner, would have called her “Mademoiselle Marie,” or “Mademoiselle Monson,” or whatever might be the name by which she had known the young lady, than by the general and still more respectful appellation of “Mademoiselle.” On this peculiarity of deportment Jack Wilmeter speculated profoundly; for a young man who is just beginning to submit to the passion of love is very apt to fancy a thousand things that he would never dream of seeing in his cooler moments. Still, John had fancied himself bound in the spells of another, until this extraordinary client of his uncle’s so unexpectedly crossed his path. Such is the human heart.