seemed disposed to give them to her. Then the drawing-room door was thrown open, and Mademoiselle appeared to be retreating upstairs, flinging angry words behind her, as she went, in shrill

tones

"Den you may say vat you please! Non, I vill not listen. Non, I vill not hear. Non, I vill not stay in dis house, not von more night—no, not if you vas to demand of me. I vill go dis ver' instant. Call de cab. Dis ver' instant, s'il vous plaît."

"By all means, Mademoiselle," Harry's voice made answer. "You are of course at liberty to leave when you wish, only please to remember that you do so of your own free will. We have no desire to detain you, but my father has expressed his willingness that you should remain a week or ten days longer."

Mademoiselle's raised tones died slowly away in the direction of her own room.

Mrs. Fitzroy opened the door, and called— "Harry!"

"She's off!" said Mr. Fitzroy, responding to the appeal, and giving vent to his feelings in a comical little shrug.

"But surely you will not allow it," said Mrs. Fitzroy in dismay. "To send her away at half an hour's notice! Harry must be mad! What will Mrs. Willoughby-Dumbarton think of us?"

“Mademoiselle will not go to her," said Mr. Fitzroy. "She threatened to do so, but sheered off the moment Harry talked of calling and explaining matters."

"But, of course, Mrs. Willoughby-Dumbarton will hear! And she was so much interested in Mademoiselle. I cannot think what you can have said to make Mademoiselle in such a hurry to leave." "I spoke the truth, mother," Harry said gravely. "You would not have had me do less."

"There are different ways of managing. I do so dislike this kind of thing. It makes one quite talked about. I wish

"You had better let the matter rest, Alicia," said her husband, with meaning in his tone. Harry knows what he is about. I would not have refused a week's grace, but if Mademoiselle prefers to go at once, so much the better. We are well quit of her. She has let me see a little of what she is in the last half-hour."

Mrs. Fitzroy, if convinced, was not consoled. She complained and protested still, and at length, with a dissatisfied expression, quitted the room.

"So I was right, Edith, after all," exclaimed Dessie.

"Right-how?" asked Mr. Fitzroy.

"Why, I always thought, papa, that there was something odd about her. I fancied there were things in her past life that she would not quite have liked us to know. Do you remember that trick I played her-pretending I was her cousin, Miss St. Rock-and do you remember how frightened she was at my mysterious hints?"

"So that was done designedly. It never occurred to me that your words had a definite meaning."

"O yes; I didn't speak without an object.

But, papa, what do you know now about Mademoiselle St. Roque?"

Mr. Fitzroy looked at his son, and drew his lips together, with the softest possible commencement of a whistle.

"It is not necessary that you should hear particulars, Dessie," said her brother decisively. "Mademoiselle is not a fit companion for you."

66 And you don't mean to tell me any more?" "No. That is enough."

"Splendid martinet thrown away," murmured Mr. Fitzroy. "I don't know what on earth made him fix on the medical profession. He will stand opposite his patient, dose in hand, and give the word of command,- Ready-Present-Drink!""

"Dessie has hardly come to the age when it is advisable to explain all one's reasons for action," said Harry, with a touch of annoyance.

"We don't go in for reserve in this house. However, in the present instance I agree with you. Therefore, Dessie, ask no more."

"I told Edith I did not think Mademoiselle a nice person, papa, and I think she would have told you, only she knew it would be of no use," pronounced Dessie.

"Pretty well, that!" said Mr. Fitzroy, looking at his sister; and before he could say more a servant entered.

"If you please, Miss Dessie, your mamma wants you to take some books upstairs that you have got, belonging to Mademoiselle. She says you have

some besides those in the schoolroom."

CHAPTER VI.

GONE.

"BOOKS of Mademoiselle's! Oh, to be sure I'll bring them," said Decima, jumping up. "You need not wait. Let me see, I put them in drawer. Yes; here they are."

my

"What are they?" asked Harry, as Mr. Fitzroy left the room.

"French novels," said Decima, with a smile.

"I suppose that is a specimen of the kind of teaching you have had," said Harry, not quite prepared for the ready assent of her answer.

"To be sure it is. She has lots of them, and I have read as many as I could. It has got me on splendidly with my French."

There was a marked frown on Harry's face as he took from her the volumes she had produced, and turned to the title pages. He gave them back, asking, with sternness

"Are all the rest like these ?"

"The same sort of thing. You need not look at me like that, Harry; I didn't choose Mademoiselle. Of course I read what she gave me. It wasn't my business to complain, and I am sure the books were very amusing."

"Would you think it no business of yours to complain, if Mademoiselle offered you a draught of poison to drink?"

"Oh, well-but that is an impossible case. The books did me no harm."

"There are kinds of poison which work slowly in the system, unknown to the sufferer. You could not read these books, Dessie, and not be the worse for them, however cleverly you may hide the evil from yourself and others."

"I must take them to mamma," was Dessie's answer, and she went off, Harry saying warmly— "It is perfectly disgraceful."

Things could not be worse," said Miss Fitzroy. "It is disgraceful-perfectly disgraceful! A girl of fifteen encouraged to saturate her mind with that disreputable poisonous stuff!"

"I knew it was bad for her," said Edith.

to speak would have been useless."

?"

"But

"Was my father aware of what went on "Not about the books she read, or mamma either," said Edith. "I only found out by accident t; but you know, Harry, even if I had spoken it would have made no difference."

"You knew, and did not speak?"

"I never meddle," said Edith coldly. "It only makes mischief."

"Your plan of never interfering may amount to a positive monomania. To see such evils going on under your eyes, and never make an effort to check them! The thing seems to me incredible. Useless to speak! Perhaps so, but what then? You would