morning, coming into the sitting-room, found
Madelon there alone. It was growing dark, and she was sitting
in a big arm-chair by the fire, her eyes fixed on the
crackling wood, her hands lying listlessly in her lap. She
hardly looked up, or stirred as Graham came in, and drew a
chair to her side.

"Well, Madelon," he said, cheerfully, "so we start for England
to-morrow?"

"Yes," she said; but there was no animation in her manner.

"Has my aunt told you?" he went on. "We are going to sleep at
Liege, so that she may go to the convent, and settle matters
there finally, and let the nuns know they are not to expect
you back again."

"Yes, I know," said Madelon. "Monsieur Horace, do you think we
might stop for just a little while--for half-an-hour--at Le
Trooz, to see Jeanne-Marie? She would not like me to go away
without wishing her good-bye."

"Of course we will. It was Jeanne-Marie who took care of you
when you were ill, was it not? Tell me the whole story,
Madelon. What made you run away from Liege?"

"There was a fever in the convent; I caught it, and Aunt
Therese died; and when I was getting well I heard the nuns
talking about it, and saying I was to live in the convent
always, and be made a nun--and I could not, oh! I could not--
papa said I was never to be a nun, and it would have been so
dreadful; and I could not have kept my promise to you,
either."

"What was this promise, Madelon? I can't remember your making
me one, or anything about it."

"Yes, don't you know? That evening at Liege, the night before
I went into the convent, when we were taking a walk. You said
you wanted to make your fortune, and I said I would do it for
you. I knew how, and I thought you did not. I meant to do it
at once, but I could not, and I was afraid you would think I
had forgotten my promise, and would want the money, so I got
out of the window and came to Spa. But I lost all my money the
first time I went to the tables, and there was a lady who
wanted to take me back to the convent; but she went to sleep
in the train, and I got out at Le Trooz. I don't remember much
after that, for the fever came on again; but Jeanne-Marie, who
keeps a restaurant in the village, found me in the church, she
says, and took me home, and nursed me till I was well."

"And how long ago was all this?"

"It was last May that I ran away from the convent, and I was
with Jeanne-Marie all the summer; but as soon as I was well
again, and had enough