Now, Mademoiselle D'Etienne and Brenda Carlton would have made their fortunes by ways that deceived. There was a great deal of affinity in their insincere natures. With Mademoiselle, it was truly bred in the bone; but she was not altogether ill-natured, and, after considering matters for a short time, decided that, unless special circumstances turned up, she would not disturb Penelope's chance of having a good time at Castle Beverley. Her jealousy of the girl died down and she thought of herself and her own circumstances. Then it occurred to her that she would perhaps make some use of her pupil's unexpected absence from Hazlitt Chase. If Penelope went to Castle Beverley for several weeks of the holidays, it would surely not be necessary for Mademoiselle to stay in that mansion so _triste_, so desolate. Mrs Hazlitt was the soul of kindness. Mademoiselle was in her employ, and earning a considerable salary until the middle of September. It might be possible that Mrs Hazlitt could find some amusement for the poor lonely girl who was banished from her native land. Where could she go? what could she do to relieve the heavy air of England, to take the oppression from her heart? It would be more than delightful if she, too, could have an invitation to Castle Beverley, and, just for a minute, it entered her head that she might manage this by means of that little secret which she held over Penelope. But, after all, the secret was not so intensely valuable. What she knew was simply this. She had observed Cara Burt opening a letter on a certain morning and taking an unexpected five-pound note out of it. Mademoiselle was avaricious. The sight of the money had awakened desires within her. What could a girl like Cara want with anything so precious as a five-pound note in term time? She resolved to question her. "How good your people are to you!" she said. Cara had asked the governess what she meant, and the governess had prettily replied in her broken English that she had seen the "note so valuable" in Cara's hand when she opened the letter. "Oh, that is for a purpose--an important one," answered Cara. Then she bit her lips, for she was sorry she had said so much. But other girls had received their money on the very same day and Mademoiselle, alert and auspicious, had crept to the _rendezvous_ where they all met. Poor Penelope! When Penelope received the five-pound Bank of England notes, Mademoiselle's dark, wicked face was peering from behind the shade of a magnificent oak tree. The girls themselves did not perceive her. She was much elated with her discovery and resolved to enfold it, as she said, within her breast for future use.