bbled in pencil on the envelope, and gave
it back to Charles, who was waiting in the hall for the answer. Two
minutes after, Lord Robert walked into the room, the door of which the
footman had left open.

"I have come to help you," he said, in that voice of his that sounds so
sure of a welcome you can't snub him. "But where are you going?"

"I don't know," I said, a little forlornly, and then bent down and
vigorously collected photographs.

"Oh, but you can't go to London by yourself!" he said, aghast. "Look
here, I will come up with you, and take you to my aunt, Lady Merrenden.
She is such a dear, and I am sure when I have told her all about you she
will be delighted to take care of you for some days until you can hunt
round."

He looked such a boy, and his face was so kind, I was touched.

"Oh no, Lord Robert! I cannot do that, but I thank you. I don't want to
be under an obligation to any one," I said, firmly. "Mr. Carruthers
suggests a way out of the difficulty--that I should marry him, and stay
here. I don't think he means it, really, but he pretends he does."

He sat down on the edge of a table already laden with books, most of
which overbalanced and fell crash on the floor.

"So Christopher wants you to marry him--the old fox?" he said,
apparently oblivious of the wreck of literature he had caused. "But you
won't do that, will you? And yet I have no business to say that. He is a
dam good friend, Christopher."

"I am sure you ought not to swear so often, Lord Robert; it shocks me,
brought up as I have been," I said, with the air of a little angel.

"Do I swear?" he asked, surprised. "Oh no, I don't think so--at least,
there is no 'n' to the end of the 'dams,' so they are only an innocent
ornament to conversation. But I won't do it, if you don't wish me to."

After that he helped me with the books, and was so merry and kind I soon
felt cheered up, and by lunchtime all were finished and in the boxes
ready to be tied up and taken away. Veronique, too, had made great
progress in the adjoining room, and was standing stiff and _maussade_ by
my dressing-table when I came in. She spoke respectfully in French, and
asked me if I had made my plans yet, for, as she explained to me, her
own position seemed precarious, and yet, having been with me for five
years, she did not feel she could leave me at a juncture like this. At
the same time she hoped mademoiselle would make some suitable decision,
as she feared, respe