He went to a directory and found out the residence of Mr. Chesterton, a stately brown-stone residence in a fashionable and aristocratic street. A day or two later he said to Van Zandt: "I have found out all about the members of Mr. Chesterton's family. He has a handsome young wife, three small children, and a beautiful young governess." "Una!" Eliot cried, with a start. "Perhaps so; but we must not be too sure. I have not seen her yet," said Carmontelle. "But you will do so soon?" anxiously. A week later he came to Eliot where he sat with his sisters in the library, their favorite room, for here Sylvie seldom obtruded her presence. Maud, so lovely and happy now that she did not look like the pensive girl of a month ago, sprung up impetuously and caught his arm. "Oh, you look so happy, you surely found our darling girl!" Taking Eliot's and Edith's indulgence for granted, he pressed a light kiss on her pure brow. "You have guessed aright," he answered, "I have seen Mr. Chesterton's governess. She calls herself Mademoiselle Lorraine, and teaches French to the little Chestertons, but she is indeed no other than our Una." "Thank Heaven!" Eliot cried, springing up, "I will go to her at once." "Nonsense! She will not receive you," said his friend, and Eliot flung himself down again with a groan. "Listen," said Pierre Carmontelle, "Mademoiselle Lorraine goes out every afternoon to walk with her little charges. She is always closely veiled, and sometimes she walks past this very house, and looks up at the windows with eyes full of sadness. I saw her myself to-day, and recognized her in spite of her thick veil. I followed her, and when near the gate, I spoke to her; but afterward I was almost sorry I had done so, she was so terribly frightened." "Frightened!--but why?" cried Maud. And Eliot echoed bitterly: "Why?" "I can not tell you, I only know that she did not accord me any welcome. She only looked sorry and frightened and cried out sharply: 'Oh, you have hunted me down! This is cruel, cruel; but, oh, Monsieur Carmontelle, for God's sake, do not betray me to Eliot--to Mr. Van Zandt.'" "And then?" cried Edith, breathlessly. "Then her little pupils came around her and hurried her inside the gate. She looked back at me, waved her little gloved hand imploringly, and cried out again, 'Do not betray me to Eliot, or any one.' Then she vanished inside the banker's door." They sat looking sadly, and yet gladly, at one another. At least she lived, poor darling, and was out of the power of the wicked woman whose malice had lured her from home and love. "If I could only see her, only speak to her, my poor little Una, I am sure I could win her confidence!" Eliot exclaimed, passionately.