well now," she added, smiling up at him. "I have often thought
of you, Monsieur, and I am so glad to see you again."

She said it with a little naïve air of frankness and sincerity
which was very engaging, giving him her hand as she spoke.

"I am glad you have not quite forgotten me," said Graham,
sitting down by her on the window seat; "but indeed you have
grown so much, I am not sure I should have recollected you, if
I had not seen your name here. What have you been doing ever
since? Have you ever been to Chaudfontaine again?"

"Oh, very often," said Madelon. "We go there almost every year
for a little while--not this year though, for we were at
Wiesbaden till three weeks ago, and then papa had to come to
Paris at once."

"And do you still go about everywhere with your papa, or do
you go to school sometimes?"

"To school? oh no, never," said Madelon, not without some
wonder at the idea. "Papa would not send me to school. I
should not like it at all, and neither would he. I know he
would not get on at all well without me, and I love travelling
about with him. Last winter we were in Italy."

"And you never come to England?"

"No, never. I asked papa once if he would not go there, and he
said no, that we should not like it at all, it was so cold and