"Why, it just fits me!" she exclaimed in an astonished voice. "_Certainment!_" smiled the woman, passing her fat, jeweled fingers complacently over the girl's shoulders. "I am very good judge of ze figure. I was sure it would fit." "What, did you buy it for me?" cried Jane, quite overcome by such kindness. "Why sure I did!" purred the woman. "An' ze leetle cap, too--see?" And she settled a coquetish yachting cap into place on Jane's head. "Ze hats wiz fezzers, zey blow into bits an' fly away at sea. You leave zis leetle coat an' hat wiz me till we come in port, zen I gif zem to you alright. But mind, you mus' not spik to anybody on ze ship--_not--one--word--of--me_! You un'erstan'--eh?" Jane stared at the woman's scowling face with something like fear. But as she looked the frown on Mrs. Markle's large face melted into quick laughter. "You're alright--alright, a real nize young lady," she murmured, "you will not spik to men or to any womans--no, nevaire. Go now, an' make ze voyage. I see you once every day after ze _dejeuner_." Jane stepped out rather uncertainly into the brilliantly lighted corridor beyond the stateroom door, then paused with a startled face. Something strange and powerful had begun to throb in the unknown depths beneath her feet, slowly at first, then steadying to a monotonous beat--beat. The screw of the great ship, which was to bear her to new and strange experiences beyond the sea, was in motion. Several hours later Lady Agatha returning from a dinner party, very much out of temper because her hostess had stupidly given the rich American wife of an up-country baronet precedence over her, found a note skewered to her cushion with a big black-headed hat pin (Susan's device, borrowed from a shilling shocker). "Aunt Agatha:" (she read) "I am going to America, and as I do not intend to return, you will have no further reason to regret my 'unfortunate influence' over your children. "Please say good-by to Percy for me. He is a _real Aubrey-Blythe_, and I am sorry that I shall never see him again. But I shall not pretend that I am sorry to be leaving your house. You will be glad to be rid of me, I know; and I am equally glad of this opportunity of going away. So we are quits. "You seemed to feel that I do not appreciate what you have done for me in the past. I think I have and do appreciate _everything_; I have thought of little else of late. And this has led quite directly to my present determination. Good-by, good-by! "JANE EVELYN AUBREY-BLYTHE." On the day following, the Hon. Wipplinger Towle was likewise the recipient of a communication, the contents of which he finally deciphered with difficulty. It was written on pink paper, strongly scented with cheap perfumery, and was fetched to his lodgings, so his man informed him, "by a very respectable appearin' pusson in blue an' scarlet livery."