as she compared the tremulous longing, the definite ideal of the child with her own dry despair. ‘Poor little Pansy!’ she affectionately said.

‘Oh never mind!’ Pansy answered in the tone of eager apology.

And then there was a silence; the Countess was a long time coming. ‘Did you show your aunt everything, and did she enjoy it?’ Isabel asked at last.

‘Yes, I showed her everything. I think she was very much pleased.’

‘And you’re not tired, I hope.’

‘Oh no, thank you, I’m not tired.’

The Countess still remained behind, so that Isabel requested the footman to go into the Coliseum and tell her they were waiting. He presently returned with the announcement that the Signora Contessa begged them not to wait—she would come home in a cab!

About a week after this lady’s quick sympathies had enlisted themselves with Mr Rosier, Isabel, going rather late to dress for dinner, found Pansy sitting in her room. The girl seemed to have been awaiting her; she got up from her low chair. ‘Pardon my taking the liberty,’ she said in a small voice. ‘It will be the last—for some time.’

Her voice was strange, and her eyes, widely opened, had an excited, frightened look. ‘You’re not going away!’ Isabel exclaimed.

‘I’m going to the convent.’

‘To the convent?’

Pansy drew nearer, till she was near enough to put her arms round Isabel and rest her head on her shoulder. She stood this way a moment, perfectly still; but her companion could feel her tremble. The quiver of her little body expressed everything she was unable to say. Isabel nevertheless pressed her. ‘Why are you going to the convent?’

‘Because papa thinks it best. He says a young girl’s better, every now and then, for making a little retreat. He says the world, always the world, is very bad for a young girl. This is just a chance for a little seclusion—a little reflexion.’ Pansy spoke in short detached sentences, as if she could scarce trust herself; and then she added with a triumph of self-control: ‘I think papa’s right; I’ve been so much in the world this winter.’

Her announcement had a strange effect on Isabel; it seemed to carry a larger meaning than the girl herself knew. ‘When was this decided?’ she asked. ‘I’ve heard nothing of it.’

‘Papa told me half an hour ago; he thought it better it shouldn’t be too much talked about in advance. Madame Catherine’s to come for me at a quarter past seven, and I’m only to take two frocks. It’s only for a few weeks; I’m sure it will be very good. I shall find all those ladies who used to be so kind to me, and I shall see the little girls who are being educated. I’m very fond of little girls,’ said Pansy with an effect of diminutive grandeur. ‘And I’m also very fond of Mother Catherine. I shall be very quiet and think a great deal.’

Isabel listened to her, holding her breath; she was almost awestruck. ‘Think of me sometimes.’

‘Ah, come and see me soon!’ cried Pansy; and the cry was very different from the heroic remarks of which she had just delivered herself.