anity falling easily into the
trap laid for her; "and she is so pretty, too, and she had such a lovely
voice once. She was a very famous singer years ago, but she never sings
now--"

Then remembering, she stopped suddenly in her chatter, colouring hotly
with anger with herself, and embarrassment, as she glanced round and saw
all eyes fixed on her. It seemed to her that every one was listening to
her indiscreet, foolish talk. Mr. Somerset had ceased playing with Poppy,
and was listening with particular interest.

"Mademoiselle Leperier," he cried, drawing nearer. "You don't mean to say
she is in the neighbourhood! You never told me," turning to Miss Row,
"what a celebrity you had in your midst. I should so much like to meet
her--quite an interesting personality. I have always wanted to know her.
Don't you know her story?" And in a few brief, cold words he gave the
outline of the bitter tragedy of the singer's life.

Esther chafed and boiled with anger against them, and resentment and rage
with herself. She realised to the fall now what she had done. She had
destroyed Mademoiselle Leperier's peace and seclusion. She had laid her
open to curiosity and unwelcome visitors, and--and she might even have
driven her from that neighbourhood, and Mademoiselle would know it was her
fault, and blame her, and never like her again.

Oh! it was bitter to think that she had done it, she who loved
Mademoiselle so, and knew and understood her, who meant to have been such
a comfort to her. Poor Esther was heartbroken as she realised it all.
Something must be done, she determined. She must do something to undo
some of the mischief. She could not let things go on like this; it was
too dreadful.

They turned to her full of inquiries. Where did Mademoiselle Leperier
live? What did she look like? Who lived with her? etc. etc.
Esther set her lips tight. They should get no more out of her.
In the first place she could decline to tell them where Mademoiselle
lived. If they determined to find out, she must find some means of
preventing their going.

When Miss Row had asked three or four questions and got no answer,
she began to grow annoyed. "What is the matter with you, child?
Why don't you speak when you are spoken to? Don't you know how rude it
is?"

"Yes, I do know," said Esther, in a very trembling voice, "and I am very
sorry, but I am not going to tell any one anything more about
Mademoiselle. I--I ought not to