on the second floor, just
under the room of the Comtesse de Lavalette.

"Come in," said a Cockney voice shrill with youth, in answer to her tap;
and the child obeyed.

Though this room was of the same size and shape, it was very different
from that of the Comtesse. The plain furniture was stiffly arranged, and
there was no litter of clothing or small feminine belongings. By the
window, which gave a glimpse of the sea, and of Monaco rock with the old
part of the Palace, a plump young girl sat, with a baby a year or two
old in her arms, and a nurse's cap on her smooth head.

"You invited me to come down after I'd had my dejeuner, so I came," said
the child.

"Right you are, Miss Rosemary," returned the plump girl. "You're such a
quaint little body, you're a regular treat. I declare I ain't 'alf sure
I wouldn't rather talk to you, than read the Princess Novelettes.
Besides, I do get that tired of 'earin' nothin' but French, I'm most
sorry I undertook the job; and the Biby don't pick up English much yet."

"Don't you think he's a bright baby?" asked the child, sitting down on a
footstool, which was a favourite seat of hers.

"For a French biby, 'e's as bright as you could expect," replied her
hostess, judicially.

"Are they different?"

"Well, they ain't Hinglish."

"_I'm_ half American," said the little girl.

"You don't talk through your nose. Far as I can see, you've got as good
a haccent as me."

"I suppose yours _is_ good?" asked Rosemary, as if she longed to have a
doubt set forever at rest.

"Rather! Ain't I been brought out from London on purpose so as this biby
can learn to speak Hinglish, instead of French? It's pretty near the
sime thing as bein' nursery governess. Madame wouldn't trust her own wye
of pronouncing the languidge. She must 'ave a Hinglish girl."

"And she sent for you on purpose?" the child enquired, with increasing
respect.

"Well, I was the only one as would come at the price. 'Tain't big wages;
but I'm seein' loife. Lor', I come down here with Madame and Mounseer a
fortnight ago, and Monte Carlo ain't got many secrets from me. I _was_ a
duffer, though, at first. When I 'eerd all them shots poppin' off every
few minutes, up by the Casino, I used to think 'twas the suicides a
shooting theirselves all over the place, for before I left 'ome, I 'ad a
warnin' from my young man that was the kind of goin's on they 'ad here.
But now I know it's only the pigeon shooters, tryin' for prizes