rapidly increasing the interest he took in
her.

"I am the Countess de Saint Clair," replied Madame Cyprienne, proudly;
"but I do not assume the title now. I do not choose it to be known
that I live by singing, and by selling the remnants of our family
lace."

"I hope Lady Essendine paid you a decent price," said the colonel,
pleasantly.

Madame Cyprienne shook her head, with a little laugh--

"She has been very kind--exceedingly kind--but she knows how to drive
a bargain: all women do."

"What a shame! And have you sold it all? You had better entrust me
with the disposal of the rest."

"Oh! Colonel Wilders, I could not think of giving you so much
trouble."

"But I will; I should like to. Send it to me. My chambers are in Ryder
Street; or, better still, I will call for it if you will tell me
where," said the colonel, artfully.

"I am lodging in a very poor place, not at all such as the Countess de
Saint Clair should receive in. But I am not ashamed of it; it is in
Frith Street, Soho, NO. 29A; but I do not think you ought to
come there."

"A most delightful part of the town," said the colonel, who at the
moment would have approved of Whitechapel or the New Cut. "When shall
I call?"

"In the afternoon. In the morning I am engaged in giving lessons. But
come, we have lingered here long enough. _Miladi_ will expect me to
sing again."

Lady Essendine frowned at Cousin Bill when he brought back her singer;
but whether it was at the length of the talk, or the withdrawal of her
_protegee_ from the duties for which she was paid, her ladyship did
not condescend to explain. It was a little of both. She was pleased to
have hindered her son from paying marked attention to a person in
Madame Cyprienne's doubtful position. Now she found that person
exercising her fascinations upon Colonel Wilders, and it annoyed her,
although Cousin Bill was surely old enough to take care of himself.
Already she was changing her opinion concerning the fair singer she
had introduced into the London world. She could not fail to notice the
admiration Madame Cyprienne generally received, especially from the
men, and she doubted whether she had done wisely in taking her by the
hand.

A few days later she had no doubt at all. To her disgust, all the old
Spanish point-lace was gone; and Madame Cyprienne had told her plainly
that it was her own fault for haggling over the price. Her ladyship's
disgust was heightened when she found the best