Mademoiselle had by no means a good complexion; but then she never flushed, or looked the least hot; and when that long walk had come to an end, she had not a speck of dust on her neat black dress, for she had taken the precaution to bring with her a tiny clothes brush, with which she carefully removed what she had gathered from the dusty highroad; and her hair was as fresh as though she had just arranged it before the best looking-glass in the world. She drew on a pair of new gloves, which she did not wear while she was walking, and, with her dainty parasol unfurled, and her exquisite feet perfectly shod, she appeared quite a stylish-looking person when she enquired of the powdered footman if Miss Beverley was within. Yes, Miss Beverley was within. Mademoiselle produced her neat card, and begged that it might be conveyed to the young lady. Meanwhile, the servant asked her into one of the sitting-rooms. There, a few minutes later, Honora joined her. Honora was not glad to see her, but that did not greatly matter. She was hospitable to her finger-ends, and would not allow the tired governess to go away until she was thoroughly refreshed after her long walk. "My pupil most dear!" said Mademoiselle, when Honora entered, "I could not rest so near your home the most beautiful without calling upon you. Alas, yes! I walked! But what of that, when I had such a joy at the end of the weary _kilometres_!" "You must stay now you have come," said Honora. "Will you come into the garden? It is beautifully cool under the cedar tree, and you will find most of us there. We shall have lunch by-and-by, and you will not return until the cool of the evening." Mademoiselle murmured her thanks, and was very glad to join the others under the cedar. She made the usual suitable remarks and, as there were several of her pupils present, they all gave her, more or less, a cordial welcome. "I see you not again," she said, tears springing to her eyes. "I return to my land, heart-rent for the absence of those I so fondly love." Little Pauline Hungerford had the warmest heart in the world. She did not like Mademoiselle at all when she was at school, but she was truly sorry for her now. She ran up to her and flung her arms round her neck. "Why must you go?" she said. "Is Mrs Hazlitt angry with you?" "I know not, _mon enfant_. I cannot imagine why I leave the good school where my loved pupils dwell, but the decree is gone forth, and I must submit. You will remember me when you conjugate your verbs, my little Pauline, will you not?" As Mademoiselle spoke, she passed her arm round the child's waist, and drew her close to her. The others were now talking to one another at a little distance. "You have your pretty bangle on," said the governess. "Have you heard of the recovery of its--so to speak--twin sister?"