When they were seated in the vehicle, Martin said to his companion, 'You have now, Alice, had Madame Du Tertre for your friend quite long enough to judge of her disposition, and to know whether the desire to serve your interests which she originally professed was dictated by a spirit of regard for you, or merely assumed to serve her own purposes.' 'There can be no question in the matter,' said Alice, almost indignantly; 'nothing can exceed the devotion which Pauline has exhibited to me ever since we came together. She is infinitely more like an elder sister to me than a person whose acquaintance I seem to have made by the merest chance.' 'There is often more than chance in these matters,' said Martin gravely; 'more than there seems to be in the chance use of a word. You have said that Pauline has seemed to you as an elder sister--suppose she really stood to you in that position? 'That could scarcely be,' said Alice; 'for years and years I had no relation but my poor brother, and since his death--' 'Since his death Providence has sent some one to fill his place much more efficiently than he ever filled it himself; so far as you are concerned, my poor child,' said Martin. And then he told her what had occurred between them and Pauline at Statham's office, omitting, of course, all reference to the jealous feelings by which the Frenchwoman had at first been actuated, and dwelling upon the self-sacrifice and devotion with which she had espoused her kinswoman's cause. Alice was much touched at this narrative, and when they reached home she embraced Pauline with such tenderness, that the latter knew at once that her story had been told; knew too, that Martin had been silent about the incidents of her early life and the reasons which had originally prompted her to throw herself in Alice's way, and was proportionately grateful to him.