"That is generally the case, my dear," replied I; "but now if you please, we will try this sonata. We shall have plenty of time for talking, as we shall meet twice a week."

Caroline played the sonata, and then dropping her fingers on the keys, said, "Now, Valerie, do you know what was one of my wild dreams which a.s.sisted in inducing me to come here? I'll tell you. I know that I shall never find a husband at my father's house. All well-bred people, if they once go there, do not go a second time, and, whatever may be the merits of the daughter, they have no time to find them out, and leave the house, with the supposition that she, having been educated in so bad a school, must be unworthy of notice. Now I mean, if I can, to elope from school, that is if I can find a gentleman to my fancy--not to Gretna Green but as soon as I am married, to go to my aunt Bathurst direct, and you know that once under a husband's protection, my father and mother have no control over me. Will you a.s.sist my views, Valerie?

It's the only chance I have of happiness."

"A very pretty confession for a young lady, not yet eighteen," replied I; "and a very pretty question to put to me, who have been your governess, Caroline. I am afraid that you must not look to me for a.s.sistance, but consider it, as you termed it at first, a wild dream."

"Nevertheless, dreams come true sometimes," replied Caroline, laughing; "and all I require is birth and character: you know that I must have plenty of money."

"But, my dear Caroline, it is not people of birth and character who prowl round boarding-schools in search of heiresses."

"I know that; and that was why I asked you to help me. At all events, I'll not leave this place till I am married, or going to be married, that's certain, if I stay here till I'm twenty-five."

"Well, do not make rash resolutions; but surely, Caroline, you have not reason to complain of your parents' treatment; they are kind and affectionate towards you."

"Indeed they are not, nor were they from the time that I returned to them with you. They try by force to make me espouse their own incorrect notions of right and wrong, and it is one scene of daily altercation.

They abuse and laugh at aunt Bathurst, I believe on purpose to vex me; and, having never lived with them from my infancy, of course, when I met them I had to learn to love them. I was willing so to do, notwithstanding their unkindness to my aunt, whom I love so dearly, but they would not let me; and now I really believe that they care little about me, and would care nothing, if I were not their only daughter, for you know, perhaps, that both my brothers are now dead?"

"I knew that one was," replied I.

"The other, William, died last year," replied Caroline; "his death was a release, poor fellow, as he had a complaint in the spine for many years.

Do you know what I mean to do? I shall write to aunt Bathurst, to come and see me."

"Well, I think you will be right in so doing; but will not your father and mother come to you?"

"No, for they are very angry, and say, that until I come to my senses, and learn the difference between people, who are somebodies, and people who are n.o.bodies, they will take no notice of me; and that I may remain here till I am tired; which they think I shall soon be, and write to come back again. The last words of my father, when he brought me here and left me, were,--'I leave you here to come to your senses.' He was white with anger: but I do not wish to talk any more about them."

"And your time is up, Caroline; so you must go and make room for another pupil. Miss Greaves is the next."

Shortly after my meeting with Caroline, I received a letter from Lionel, stating that it was his intention to come over to England for a fortnight, and asking whether he could execute any commissions for me in Paris, previous to his departure. He also informed me that he had received a very kind letter, from his uncle the baronet, who had had several interviews with Mr Selwyn, and who was fully satisfied with his ident.i.ty, and acknowledged him as his nephew. This gave me great pleasure. I replied to his letter, stating that I should be most happy to see him, but that as for commissions I was too poor to give him any.

Madame d'Albret had sent her kind souvenirs to me in Lionel's letter, and I returned them in my reply. Indeed, now that I was earning a livelihood, and by my own exertions, I felt that I was every day adding to my means and future independence, a great change, I may safely say for the better, took place in me. My pride was lessened, that is, my worst pride was superseded by a more honest one. I had a strange revulsion in feeling towards Madame d'Albret, Madame Bathurst and Lady M--, and I felt that I could forgive them all. I was no longer brooding over my dependent position, fancying, perhaps, insults never intended, or irritated by real slights. Everything was _couleur de rose_ with me, and that _couleur_ was reflected upon everything.

"Ah, Mademoiselle Valerie," said Madame Gironac to me one day, "I had no idea when I first made your acquaintance that you were so witty. My husband and all the gentlemen say that you have _plus d'esprit_ than any woman they ever conversed with."

"When I first knew you, Annette, I was not happy, now I am happy, almost too happy, and that is the reason I am so gay."

"And I don't think you hate the men so much as you did," continued she.

"I am in a humour to hate n.o.body," replied I.

"That is true; and, Mademoiselle Valerie, you will marry one of these days; mind," continued she, putting up her finger, "I tell you so."

"And I tell you, no," replied I. "I think there is only one excuse for a woman marrying, which is, when she requires some one to support her; that is not my case, for I thank Heaven I can support myself."

"_Nous verrons_" replied Madame Gironac.

Caroline did, however, find the restraint of a school rather irksome, and wished very much to go out with me. When the holidays arrived, and the other young ladies had gone home, I spoke to Mrs Bradshaw, and as she was very partial to me, and knew my former relations with Caroline, she gave her consent. Shortly afterwards, Mrs Bradshaw accepted an invitation to pa.s.s three weeks with some friends, and I then proposed that Caroline should pa.s.s the remainder of the holidays with me, to which Mrs Bradshaw also consented, much to Caroline's delight. Madame Gironac had made up a bed for her in my room, and we were a very merry party.

A few days after Caroline came to the house, Lionel made his appearance.

I should hardly have believed it possible that he could have so improved in appearance in so short a time. He brought me a very kind letter from Madame d'Albret, in which she begged, as a proof of my having forgiven her, that I would not refuse a few presents she had sent by Lionel. They were very beautiful and expensive, and, when I had had some conversation with Lionel, I made up my mind that I would not return them, which certainly I at first felt more inclined to do than to keep them. When Lionel took leave, promising to come to dinner, Caroline asked me who that gentlemanly young man was. I replied, "that it was a Mr Lionel Dempster, the nephew of Lady R--," but further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of young Mr Selwyn, who came with a message from his father inviting me to Kew. I declined the invitation, on the plea of Caroline being with me. Mr Selwyn remained some time conversing with me, and at last inquired if I should like to go to the next meeting at the Horticultural Gardens, at the same time offering me two tickets. As I was anxious to see the gardens, I accepted them. He told me that his father would call for us, and his mother and sisters were to be there, and then he took leave.

"Who is Mr Selwyn?" inquired Caroline.

I told her.

"Well," said she, "I have seen two nice young men this morning; I don't know which I like best, but I think Mr Selwyn is the more manly of the two."

"I should think so, too, Caroline," replied I; "Mr Selwyn is twenty-four years old, I believe, and Mr Dempster is younger, I think, than you are."

"I did not think he was so young; but, Valerie, are we not to go to the National Gallery?"

"Yes, when Monsieur Gironac comes home to escort us; we may as well put on our bonnets, for he will be here in a few minutes."

"Oh, Valerie, how fortunate it was that I came to Mrs Bradshaw's," said Caroline, "and that I met you! I should have been moped, that is certain, if I had not, but now I'm so happy--that's Monsieur Gironac's knock, I'm sure."

But Caroline was wrong, for it was Mademoiselle Chabot, of whom I have before spoken, who made her appearance. Mademoiselle Chabot was an acquaintance of Madame Gironac, and it was through my having become intimate with her, that I obtained the teaching of Mrs Bradshaw's.

Adele Chabot was a very pretty person, thoroughly French, and dressed with great taste. She was the resident French teacher in Mrs Bradshaw's establishment; and, although twenty-five years old, did not look more than eighteen; she was very amusing and rather wild, although she looked very demure. I never thought that there was anything wrong in Adele, but, at the same time, I did not consider that Caroline would derive any good from her company, as Caroline required to be held in check as it was. But, as is usually the case, the more I attempted to check any intimacy between them, the more intimate they became. Adele was of a good family; her father had fallen at Montmartre, when the allies entered Paris after the Battle of Waterloo: but the property left was very small to be divided among a large family, and consequently Adele had first gone out as a governess at Paris, and ultimately accepted the situation she now held. She spoke English remarkably well, indeed, better than I ever heard it spoken by a Frenchwoman, and everybody said so as well as me.

"Well, Adele, I thought you were at Brighton," said Caroline.

"I was yesterday, and I am here to-day; I am come to dine with you,"

replied Adele, taking off her bonnet and shawl, and smoothing her hair before the gla.s.s. "Where's Madame Gironac?"

"Gone out to give a lesson in flower-making," replied I. "Yes, she is like the little busy bees, always on the wing, and, as the hymn says, 'How neat she spread her wax!' and Monsieur, where is he?"

"Gone out to give a lesson, also," replied I. "Yes, he's like the wind, always blowing, one hour the flute, another the French horn, then the ba.s.soon or the bugle, always blowing and always shifting from one point to the other; never a calm with him, for when he comes home there's a breeze with his wife, _a l'aimable_, to be sure."

"Yes," replied Caroline, "always blowing, but never coming to blows."

"You are witty, Mademoiselle Caroline," said Adele, "with your paradox.

Do you know that I had an adventure at Brighton, and I am taken for you, by a very fashionable young man?"

"How can you have been taken for me?" said Caroline. "The gentleman wished to find out who I was, and I would not tell him. He inquired of the chambermaid of the lodging-house, and bribed her, I presume, for the next day she came up to my room and asked me for my card, that her mistress might write my name down correctly in the book. I knew that the mistress had not sent her, as I had, by her request, entered my own name in the book three days before, and I was therefore certain that it was to find out who I was for the gentleman who followed me everywhere.

I recollected that I had a card of yours in my case, and I gave it to her very quietly, and she walked off with it. The next day, when I was at the library, the gentleman addressed me by your name; I told him that it was not my name, and requested that he would not address me again.

When I left Brighton yesterday, I discovered the chambermaid copying the addresses I had put on my trunks, which was your name, at Mrs Bradshaw's; so now I think we shall have some fun."

"But, my dear Adele, you have not been prudent; you may compromise Caroline very much," said I; "recollect that men talk, and something unpleasant may occur from this want of discretion on your part."

"Be not afraid, Valerie; I conducted myself with such prudery that an angel's character could not suffer."

"I do not mean to hint otherwise, Adele, but still you must acknowledge that you have done an imprudent thing."

"Well, I do confess it, but, Valerie, every one has not your discretion and good sense. At all events, if I see or hear any more of the gentleman I can undo it again,--but that is not very likely."

"We have had two gentlemen here to-day, Adele," said Caroline, "and one dines with us."

"Indeed; well, I'm in _demi-toilette_, and must remain so, for I cannot go all the way back to Mrs Bradshaw's to dress."

"He is a very handsome young man, is he not, Valerie?"