Mademoiselle's instant response to her cry at the sight of Pastor Lahmann rang in her ears. She blushed to the soles of her feet.... How could Mademoiselle misunderstand her insane remark? What did she mean? What did she really think of her? Just kind old Lahmann--walking along there in the outside world.... _She_ did not want to stop him.... He was a sort of kinsman for Mademoiselle ... that was what she had meant. Oh, why couldn't she get away from all these girls? ... indeed--and again she saw the hurrying figure which had disappeared leaving the boulevard with its usual effect of a great strange ocean--he could have brought help and comfort to all of them if he had seen them and stopped. Pastor Lahmann--Lahmann--perhaps she would not see him again. Perhaps he could tell her what she ought to do. "Oh, my dear," Jimmie was saying, "didn't you know?--a _fearful_ row." Mademoiselle's laughter tinkled out from the rear. "A row?" "Fearful!" Jimmie's face came round, round-eyed under her white sailor hat that sat slightly tilted on the peak of her hair. "What about?" "Something about a letter or something, or some letters or something--I don't know. Something she took out of the letter-box, it was unlocked or something and Ulrica saw her _and told Lily_!" "Goodness!" breathed Miriam. "Yes, and Lily had her in her room and Ulrica and poor little Petite couldn't deny it. Ulrica said she did nothing but cry and cry. She's been crying all the morning, poor little pig." "Why did she want to take anything out of the box?" "Oh, I don't know. There was a fearful row anyhow. Ulrica said Lily talked like a clergyman--wie ein Pfarrer.... I don't know. Ulrica said she was _opening_ a letter. _I_ don't know." "But she can't read German or English...." "_I_ don't know. Ask me another." "It is _extraordinary_." "What's extraordinary?" asked Bertha from the far side of Jimmie. "Petite and that letter." "Oh." "What did the Kiddy _want_?" "Oh, my dear, don't ask me to explain the peculiarities of the French temperament." "Yes, but all the letters in the letter-box would be English or German, as Hendy says." Bertha glanced at Miriam. Miriam flushed. She could not discuss Mademoiselle with two of the girls at once. "Rum go," said Bertha. "You're right, my son. It's rum. It's all over now, anyhow. There's no accounting for tastes. Poor old Petite." 5 Miriam woke in the moonlight. She saw Mademoiselle's face as it had looked at tea-time, pale and cruel, silent and very old. Someone had said she had been in Fräulein's room again all the afternoon.... Fräulein had spoken to her once or twice during tea. She had answered coolly and eagerly ... disgusting ... like a child that had been whipped and forgiven.... How could Fräulein dare to forgive anybody?