‘She must be naturally gentle, I suppose, or she would have been—good heavens! who knows what she might have been at one-and-twenty?’ He could not but see, however, that she had much of his own intense fastidiousness, and that she was proud, and that frequently a flash of the sarcasm from which she had suffered would appear in her own remarks. And he was in despair at the prospect of the future which lay before her. Avice herself did not give much thought to that future. She was happier in the present than she ever had been before. The day came at last, the last day of their stay at Ems. In the morning they were to leave. Jerome strolled into their sitting-room in the evening, and found Avice there. ‘_Gott sei dank!_’ he remarked. ‘All the dismissals are over.’ He had been discharging his sister’s maid and his father’s valet. For the future Avice was to learn to mend and perhaps make her own clothes, dress her own hair, and otherwise become a useful and practical member of society. ‘Then they are gone, Jerome?’ ‘Yes, they are gone.’ ‘Toinette came in floods of tears to say adieu. “Ah, mademoiselle!” she exclaimed, “when I reflect upon your hair, and your desolation, without me, I am _près à mourir_.”’ ‘She will soon console herself. She was flirting atrociously with the porter when I went downstairs.’ ‘And, Jerome, it has suddenly occurred to me to ask you, at what hour do we start in the morning, and by what route do we travel to England?’ There was a pause, as she looked at him, and saw that her brother’s eyes were fixed upon a book upon the table, and that there was an expression in his face which she did not quite understand. At last he raised his eyes, and said, with, as she thought, some little constraint: ‘We must take the “cheapest and best” route from the Continent, I suppose: Cologne, Rotterdam, and Harwich. I am sorry for you, my child, but——’ ‘Oh, sorry, nonsense! I am not made of white sugar, Jerome. Then, at what time must we leave? Shall I have to get up very early?’ ‘No earlier than usual, for I propose breaking the journey, and staying all night at Elberthal.’ ‘At Elberthal? Why there? It is not a pretty town, and Cologne is far more interesting, though I am tired of it.’ ‘I know Elberthal is not pretty. But there is some one there whom I wish to see before I go to England.’ ‘Oh, is it anyone I know?’ ‘I think you have seen her once or twice. It is Miss Sara Ford.’ ‘Miss Ford!’ repeated Avice, not at the first moment comprehending. ‘That beautiful Miss Ford who was with the Countess of Trockenau so often? Is she a friend——’ Then, as she still continued looking at Jerome, she understood in a moment, and stopped abruptly. This was a new phase of life, a fresh complication in her circumstances, towards which her thoughts had never before turned for a moment. For a few moments she sat quite still, saying nothing, pondering upon it; then, rising quickly, she went to Jerome, and put her arm round his neck.