"I know not, _ma chere_; I only do know that once you got money from your school friends. You would like not that story to be known; but it can be spread all over the school at Hazlitt Chase, and Honora Beverley, that most saintly and esteemed young lady, can hear of it. She will not wish to have you any longer a visitor at her beautiful home; for she is of the lofty sort that stoop not to the ways of the wicked. Think what it will mean. And your sister--she will be, oh, in peril of grave imprisonment. Think of the public trial and the so great disgrace. Madame at the Chase will not receive you back; she would not dare to receive the sister of a thief! _Oh, fi donc_! She could not it endure. That is your position. But I deliver you therefrom if you once again exercise that spell which you possess; and get from your companions--it matters not which--the leetle, leetle sum of twenty pound. That is the whole, you understand." "I understand," said Penelope. She spoke in a low voice; her face was white as death. "I give you until the morning. You are puzzled, _pauvre petite_, and most truly do I you pity. But never mind; it is _necessaire_ that the poor governess be helped in her hour of so great need. To her it is equal about the disgrace to you and yours; in one way or the other she, the poor French Mademoiselle, makes a _grand coup_ in this matter! And now, I wish you `adieu' for the night. Communicate with me before twelve o'clock to-morrow. If at that hour I have no news from you, I take my own steps. _Adieu, cherie. Pauvre enfant, dormez tranquille_." Mademoiselle turned away. She walked quickly down the dusty road. She had done her evil deed; she had exploded her bomb. Her wicked heart felt no sense of shame or sorrow for the innocent girl whom she had put in so cruel a position. As to Penelope, she stayed for a little time just where Mademoiselle d'Etienne had left her. Then she turned and walked up the drive. She was stunned. She had not walked half-way up the avenue before a gay young voice sounded in her ears; and, of all people in the world, those she least wished to see at this juncture, rushed up to her and flung their arms round her neck and wrist. "You have come back!" said Nellie Hungerford. "We are _so_ delighted!" said Pauline. "We have missed you just dreadfully. But we have had a good day. We went to the sands at Carlin Bay. Uncle Beverley took us, and we did enjoy ourselves! But still it isn't half so much fun when you're away. You're so splendid at telling stories, you know. But come along now; you're just in time for supper, and after supper we mean to have a grand game at hide-and-seek before we all go to bed. Honora! Nora dear, here is Penelope--she is come back!" Honora ran down the grassy sward to meet her friend. "Why, surely," she said, "you didn't walk home?" "No, no--I left the carriage at the gate." "But why did you do that?" "I thought I'd like to walk up the avenue."