in front of the
house, and sipped their tea, while the children of the place came and
stared solemnly at the strangers.

They drove home in the evening sunlight between the orchards, where the
apples hung heavy on the trees, Mademoiselle Vire talking in her happy
way as usual, entertaining Barbara with tales of what she had seen and
heard. But when they drew up at her door, and the girl helped her out,
she looked anxiously into her friend's face. Had it been too tiring
for her?

"You are thinking I may be tired!" the old lady said, smiling at her.
"Then I will tell you, my dear. I am just tired enough to go to bed
and have dreams, happy dreams. When one is so old, one is so near the
end of memory, so near the beginning of realities, that the former
ceases to be sad. I thank you for the pleasure you have given
Jeannette and myself, it will last us long; and now, good-night."

She kissed her, and Barbara turned back to the pony chaise.

"For her sake," she said softly to herself, "one would like the
realities to begin soon."

CHAPTER XVIII.

AUNT ANNE AGAIN.

Barbara had not been so frequently at the bath-house of late, the sea
proving more attractive, and she was therefore surprised one day on
going there to find a new bath-boy. She missed her old plain-faced
friend and wondered what had become of him. "Is he ill?" she asked at
the office on her way out.

The woman pursed up her lips; "No, he is not ill," she said. "But we
found that he was not of the character that we thought."

"But he had been with you some years," Barbara expostulated, for the
boy had confided that fact to her.

"He had, but he had degenerated, we found."

A dreadful doubt seized Barbara that his dismissal might be due to the
help he had given her in Alice's escape, and in that case she would be
partly responsible for him.

"Will you kindly give me his address?" she said, turning back again to
the office. The woman looked doubtful, and said she was not sure if
she had it.

"I think if he has been with you several years, you must surely know
where he lives," Barbara persisted; and seeing her determined look, the
woman apparently thought it would be the quickest way to get rid of
her, and did as she was asked. Barbara repeated the name of the street
and the number once or twice as she went out, and wondered how she
should begin to find her way there, though consoling herself by
thinking it was not the first time she ha