"Immense! Father looks as if a ton's weight had been taken off his
mind. Now I hope we shall have a little peace."

With a hasty good bye she hurried on, an unusual elasticity in her
light footsteps. In Guilford Square she met a political friend of
her father's, and was brought once more to a standstill. This time
it was a little unwillingly, for M. Noirol teased her unmercifully,
and at their last meeting had almost made her angry by talking of
a friend of his at Paris who offered untold advantages to any
clever and well-educated English girl who wished to learn the
language, and who would in return teach her own. Erica had been
made miserable by the mere suggestion that such a situation would
suit her; the slightest hint that it might be well for her to go
abroad had roused in her a sort of terror lest her father might
ever seriously think of the scheme. She had not quite forgiven M.
Noirol for having spoken, although the proposal had not been
gravely made, and probably only persevered in out of the spirit of
teasing. But today M. Noirol looked very grave.

"You have heard our good news?" said Erica. "Now don't begin again
about Madame Lemercier's school; I don't want to be made cross
today of all days, when I am so happy."

"I will tease you no more, dear mademoiselle," said the Frenchman;
but he offered no congratulations, and there was something in his
manner which made Erica uneasy.

"Is anything wrong? Has anything happened?" she asked quickly.