ns of
improving, which was depressing for those who had great plans afoot.
Mademoiselle Therese thought Barbara was showing signs of madness when
she proposed going to the baths, and was not a little annoyed when her
disapproval failed to turn the girl from her purpose. Barbara had
grave doubts about Alice being allowed to go, but she felt _she_, at
least, must at all costs be there. She had time to remind the bath-boy
of his bargain, and to promise him something extra when next she came,
if he were true to his word, and was just ready to return home, when
Alice arrived with the old maid. She succeeded in giving her a little
piece of paper with some directions on it, but was able to say nothing;
and, after a mere nod, left the bath-house.

She was very curious to see where the window by which the girl was to
escape opened, and, going down the passage that ran along the side of
the building, found that it opened into a yard, which seemed the
storehouse for old rubbish--a safe enough place to alight in. When she
returned to the street she saw the "Pretender" coming along, wheeling
two bicycles; and her relief at seeing him was mingled with compunction
at giving him such a lot of trouble.

It really was rather cool to drag a comparative stranger into such a
matter, even if his good nature had prompted him to offer his
assistance. But, somehow, the mere fact of his talking English had
seemed to do away with the need of formal introduction, and the
knowledge that his uncle had known Miss Britton in bygone days would be
a certificate of respectability sufficient to satisfy her mother, she
thought.

"I _am_ so sorry it's wet," she said. "It makes it so much worse for
you to be hanging about."

"It _is_ hardly the day one would choose for a bicycle ride," he
returned cheerfully; "but, like the conductors in Cook's Tours, I feel
I have been chartered for the run, and weather must make no difference.
But you should go straight home. It would be too conspicuous to have
_two_ people loitering about. I will let you know as soon as possible
how things go, and if you don't hear till to-morrow, it will mean we
are safely on our journey."

Barbara saw the wisdom of returning at once, but did so with
reluctance, and, finding that she was quite unable to give proper
attention to her work, wrote a long letter home, relieving her mind by
recounting the adventure in full. It was a good thing that the first
plan--of hiding Ali