the country well and so will give
you the aid you require." She spoke with painstaking correctness. "Enter,
Mam'selle!"

Lucile was very glad to avail herself of the invitation, for she was
tired from the long walk and her damp clothing clung to her limbs
uncomfortably.

Her diminutive hostess led her into a large, low-ceiled, home-like room,
whose broad window sills were abloom with fresh-cut flowers. Lucile
thought that only the sun was needed to make it the cheeriest room in the
world.

"If Ma'm'selle will explain to me from where she comes," the girl invited,
"I will the better know how to make swift her return, since she wishes
it."

"Thank you!" said Lucile, gratefully. "I wouldn't care so much for
myself, but I'm afraid my folks will be terribly worried." Then she went
on to describe the inn and her adventure of the morning.

When she had finished, her hostess nodded thoughtfully. "I know the place
of which you speak," she said, "and I would most gladly take you there
immediately, but my servant has gone to the village with the only
carriage of which we are the owner and has not yet returned. I fear he
may have waited for the storm to abate," and she glanced out the window,
where the rain was still pouring down in torrents.

Lucile's heart sank. "Then I can't hope to get back to the folks or send
word to them till the rain stops," she said.

The girl nodded confirmation. "I fear that is so, Ma'm'selle," she said;
then, as though realizing her duty as hostess, she rose to her feet,
saying, hurriedly, "But I forget myself. You must have hunger,
Ma'm'selle. I will return at once." Then, checking herself again, she
added, "But I have not yet told you my name. It is Jeanette Renard."

"And mine is Lucile Payton."

"Now are we acquainted," said Jeanette, gaily.

Lucile, left to herself, felt again, only to a greater extent, that
strange sense of familiarity with her surroundings. Then, in a flash, the
solution came to her. Why, how stupid she was not to have realized it
before! The chateau corresponded, word for word, with M. Charloix's
description. In Lucile's own words, it was it!

And her name was Jeanette! Why, of course! How absurdly simple the whole
thing was! Why, this was the very scene of M. Charloix's amazing story.
But that she, Lucile, should stumble into the very midst of all this
mystery----

At this point in her meditations Jeanette re-entered the room, smiling
and serene. Lucile decided