my legal adviser. I replied, "Certainly; but that he could not expect
the business of a teacher of music to be very profitable."

"No, nor do I intend that it shall be, but it will be a great pleasure,"
replied he, very gallantly. "I hope you have some money to put by."

"Yes," replied I, "I have some, but not quite enough; by the end of the
year I hope to have 500 pounds."

"I am glad that you have told me, as a profitable investment may occur
before that time, and I will secure it for you."

He asked permission to read Caroline's note, and then said that he would
find the other piece of music, and leave it at Monsieur Gironac's in the
course of a day or two--after which he took his leave. I received that
evening a letter from Lionel, which had a great effect upon me. In it,
he stated that at the fencing-school he had made acquaintance with a
young officer, a Monsieur Auguste de Chatenoeuf,--that he had mentioned
to him that he knew a lady of his name in England; that the officer had
asked him what the age of the lady might be, and he had replied.

"Strange," said the officer; "I had a very dear sister, who was supposed
to be drowned, although the body was never found. Can you tell me the
baptismal name of the lady you mention?"

"It then occurred to me," continued Lionel, "that I might be imprudent
if I answered, and I therefore said that I did not know, but I thought
you had been called by your friends, Annette."

"`Then it cannot be she,' replied he, `for my sister's name was Valerie.
But she may have changed her name--describe to me her face and figure.'

"As I at once felt certain that you were the party, and was aware, that
the early portion of your life was never referred to by you, I thought
it advisable to put him off the scent, until I had made this
communication. I therefore replied, `That' (excuse me) `you were very
plain, with a pug nose, and very short and fat.'

"`Then it must be somebody else,' replied the officer. `You made my
heart beat when you first spoke about her, for I loved my sister dearly,
and have never ceased to lament her loss.'

"He then talked a great deal of you, and gave me some history of your
former life. I took the opportunity to ask whether your unnatural
mother was alive, and he said, `Yes, and that your father was also alive
and well.'

"I did not dare to ask more. Have I done right or wrong, my dear
Mademoiselle Chatenoeuf? If wrong, I can easily repair the e