lace, and was
arranging her flounces in one corner. She looked up, astounded
at Madelon's somewhat precipitate entrance; and as the train
moved off, she treated her small companion to a most
unceremonious stare, which took in every detail of her
personal appearance.

"Are you travelling alone?" she asked, at length, abruptly.

"Yes, madame," said Madelon, getting rather red. She had
resented the stare, and did not want to be talked to; her one
idea now was to get to Spa unnoticed. But she had ill-chosen
her travelling companion--the Countess was a lady whose
impertinent curiosity was rarely baffled.

"What! quite alone? Is there nobody at all with you?"

"No, madame."

"But that is very extraordinary, and not at all the thing for
a young person of your age. What makes you go about all by
yourself?"

"I--I have no one to go with me," faltered Madelon, getting
more and more hot and uncomfortable.

"But that is very strange, and, as one may say, very improper;
have you no friends?"

"Yes,--no," began Madelon; but at that moment, with a shriek,
the train entered a tunnel, and the sudden noise and darkness
put a stop to the conversation for a time. The Countess began
again presently, however, as they went speeding across the
next valley.

"Do you live at Chaudfontaine?" was her next inquiry.

"No," says poor Madelon, looking around despairingly, as for
some means of escape; but that was hopeless, and she could
only shrink further into her corner.

"And where are you going now, then?"

"I am going to Spa."

"To Spa? Ah, indeed--and what are you going to do there?
Perhaps," said the Countess, more graciously, and with another
glance at the shabby frock and poor little bundle, "perhaps
you are going into some situation there?"

"Situation?" repeated Madelon, bewildered.

"Yes--you would make a very nice little nursery-maid, I dare
say," said the Countess, with much condescension; "and,
indeed, if you should be wanting any assistance in that way,
you have only to apply to me; and if you can produce good
credentials, I shall be most happy to assist you. I am always
ready to help deserving young people."

Madelon grew red as fire. "I am not a nursery-maid," she said,
with much indignation; "I don't know what you mean, and you
have no right to ask me so many questions--I will not answer
any more."

Another shriek and another tunnel; when they once more emerged
into daylight, Madelon had retreated into th