Georgie tugging at her skirt, and Peter laying his hot head on her broad chest, and demanding "more, more," incessantly. In short, the little party became in the very best of humours at the meal that was hitherto such a signal failure in Mrs Dawson's drawing-room. They all met on this special day, and Mademoiselle cast more than one earnest glance at her late pupil, Penelope Carlton, and then, with a smile hovering round her lips, poured tea into the delicate cups and handed it round, always with a smile and a gentle compliment to each lady boarder. Mrs Dawson was not present at this delightful little repast, for Mademoiselle insisted on the poor tired woman having a cup of tea all by herself and then lying down and sleeping until supper time. Mrs Dawson was now completely in Mademoiselle's clever hands, and did precisely what that good woman wished. When the meal was over, the party again dispersed, but not before Mademoiselle had stolen up to Penelope's side and said quietly: "_Mon enfant_, when do you take your departure?" "I expect the wagonette at seven o'clock," replied Penelope. "And you will be, _peut-etre_, alone?" "I think so." "That is good," was Mademoiselle's reply. Then she vanished to suggest some particularly soothing application for Peter Simpkins' swollen gums. At last the hour arrived when Penelope was to go. She bade her sister good-bye, and also the three little Amberleys, who regretted her departure without quite knowing why. A moment later, she had stepped into the wagonette and was being driven out of the town in the direction of Castle Beverley. The carriage had borne her just outside the suburbs, when a neat-looking black-robed figure appeared in the very middle of the King's highway, imperatively demanding that the coachman should stop his horses. This the man, in some surprise, did. Mademoiselle then approached Penelope's side. "I have something to say to you, _cherie_," she remarked, "something of the greatest importance. May I accompany you in your drive?" "But how will you get home?" asked Penelope, very much annoyed and not at all inclined to comply. "The homeward way signifies not," responded Mademoiselle. "It is the drive with you, most dear one, and the so sacred confidences that form the essentials of this hour. You will not deny me, for in so doing, you will place yourself and your sister, the most adorable Brenda, in jeopardy." "I suppose you have something unpleasant to say," said Penelope, "and if you have, the sooner you get it over, the better." "Then you do permit me to enter into the carriage?" "I cannot help myself, but I cannot take you further than to the gates of the Castle." "That will be time sufficient. But we will desire--ah! I will myself speak to him."