Brenda went up to her room. There she found all the girls already disposed of in their separate beds. To her relief, they were all, even Fanchon, sound asleep. She sat down for a short time by the open window and thought over matters. She did not altogether like the turn of events. Try as she would, she felt that she would never be anything but a nobody at Castle Beverley. More anxious than ever was she to secure Harry Jordan as her affianced husband. She had a shrewd guess as to his sort of character, and wondered what impression she would make on him when they met the following evening. Poor Brenda went to sleep fairly happy, on the whole, that night, little guessing what a very active disturber to her peace Mademoiselle d'Etienne would prove herself to be. The next day broke, as usual, with cloudless splendour. The different ladies went out Brenda strolled abroad with her pupils. She found a shady place under a cliff, and sat there to rest, and looked around her. Meanwhile, Mademoiselle devoted herself to Mrs Dawson. She insisted on going shopping, if not for her, yet with her. And Mademoiselle had an eye for a bargain which even that astute Englishwoman, Mrs Dawson, could never hope to possess. Why, those tomatoes which she purchased for almost nothing would never have been observed at all by the good lady, and then those little crabs which were going for a few pence (Mrs Dawson, as a rule, never purchased small crabs, but Mademoiselle begged of her, on this occasion, to do so) were soon disposed of in the worthy woman's basket; and lettuces, with other tempting fresh vegetables, were secured. Mademoiselle implored of Mrs Dawson to let her arrange the supper table that night. "You have bought but little," she said; "nevertheless, it is enough. I will surprise the good, the dear ladies of your charming family with the French supper which I will prepare." "But Mary Anne will never stand it," objected Mrs Dawson. "Is she your cook?" "Yes, and a very good one too--I pay her a lot of wages." "Never mind: I will counsel her, and I will talk with her: I will get her to think that she herself has made the _souffle_ and the _omelette_ and the tomato soup and the delectable preparation of crabs. She will know it not, except as her own handiwork, and I will be your cook." "It is too much to expect of you," said Mrs Dawson, really won over by her paying guest's extraordinary kindness. "Have I found a home--and am I ungrateful?" was Mademoiselle's response. The result of this was that the two ladies came back the most excellent friends, and sat together until early dinner in that stifling little parlour. In that small room Mademoiselle got a good deal of information with regard to Brenda, whom she was interested in for more reasons than one, and also saw the advertisement for the lost bracelet with her own eyes. She read it over carefully and her black eyes glittered with excitement.