party.

"My dear Mademoiselle,

"Your letter gave great pain to me; and as for my husband, he was quite
furious, and declared that he would not live a minute longer in such an
abominable world. However, to oblige me, he has not yet made away with
himself. It really is dreadful to see a young lady-like you in such an
awkward position, from the weakness and follies of others; but we must
submit to what the _bon Dieu_ disposes, and when things come to the
worst, hope that a change will take place, as any change must then be
for the better. I have consulted my husband about what you propose, but
he negatives everything. He says you are too good for a governess;
would be thrown away as a companion to a lady; that you must not be seen
in a cab, going about giving lessons--in fact, he will listen to nothing
except that you must come and live with us. I can only say, my dear
mademoiselle, that I join in the latter request, and that it would make
me perfectly happy, and that the honour and pleasure of your company
would be more than a compensation. Still, it is but a poor home to
offer to you, but at all events one that you might condescend to take
advantage of rather than remain to be mortified by those who think, as
they do in this country, that money is everything. Do, pray, then come
to us, if you feel inclined, and then we can talk over things quietly,
and wait upon Providence. My husband has now hardly time to eat his
dinner, he has so many pupils of one kind and the other; and I am happy
to say that I have also most of my time occupied; and if it pleases God
to continue us in good health, we hope to be able to put by a little
money for a rainy day, as they say in this country, where it is always
raining. Assure yourself, my dear mademoiselle, of our love, respect,
consideration.

"Annette Gironac."

We went to town earlier than usual, Madame Bathurst feeling lonely in
the country after the departure of Caroline, from whom she had not
received a line since her quitting her. This of course was to be
ascribed to her parents, who thus returned all Madame Bathurst's
kindness, as soon as they no longer required her assistance. I know not
how it was, but gradually a sort of coolness had arisen between Madame
Bathurst and me. Whether it was that she was displeased at my refusing
her offer to remain with her, or thought proper to wean herself from one
who was so soon to quit her, I know not. I did nothing to give