Mrs Fyne remaining at the
window saw the house door close on Miss de Barral returning from her
last ride.

And meantime what had the governess (out of a nobleman's family) so
judiciously selected (a lady, and connected with well-known county
people as she said) to direct the studies, guard the health, form the
mind, polish the manners, and generally play the perfect mother to that
luckless child--what had she been doing? Well, having got rid of her
charge by the most natural device possible, which proved her practical
sense, she started packing her belongings, an act which showed her clear
view of the situation. She had worked methodically, rapidly, and well,
emptying the drawers, clearing the tables in her special apartment of
that big house, with something silently passionate in her thoroughness;
taking everything belonging to her and some things of less
unquestionable ownership, a jewelled penholder, an ivory and gold paper
knife (the house was full of common, costly objects), some chased silver
boxes presented by de Barral and other trifles; but the photograph of
Flora de Barral, with the loving inscription, which stood on her
writing-desk, of the most modern and expensive style, in a silver-gilt
frame, she neglected to take. Having accidentally, in the course of the
operations, knocked it off on the floor she let it lie there after a
downward glance. Thus it, or the frame at least, became, I suppose,
part of the assets in the de Barral bankruptcy.

At dinner that evening the child found her company dull and brusque. It
was uncommonly slow. She could get nothing from her governess but
monosyllables, and the jolly Charley actually snubbed the various cheery
openings of his "little chum"--as he used to call her at times,--but not
at that time. No doubt the couple were nervous and preoccupied. For
all this we have evidence, and for the fact that Flora being offended
with the delightful nephew of her profoundly respected governess sulked
through the rest of the evening and was glad to retire early. Mrs--
Mrs--I've really forgotten her name--the governess, invited her nephew
to her sitting-room, mentioning aloud that it was to talk over some
family matters. This was meant for Flora to hear, and she heard it--
without the slightest interest. In fact there was nothing sufficiently
unusual in such an invitation to arouse in her mind even a passing
wonder. She went bored to bed and being tired with her long ride