above the forehead, after the fashion of the times.

"I hope my friend, Sir Andrew Ffoulkes, proved an entertaining
travelling companion, madame?"

"Ah, indeed, Sir Andrew was kindness itself. How could my children and I
ever show enough gratitude to you all, Messieurs?"

Her companion, a dainty, girlish figure, childlike and pathetic in its
look of fatigue and of sorrow, had said nothing as yet, but her eyes,
large, brown, and full of tears, looked up from the fire and sought
those of Sir Andrew Ffoulkes, who had drawn near to the hearth and to
her; then, as they met his, which were fixed with unconcealed admiration
upon the sweet face before him, a thought of warmer colour rushed up to
her pale cheeks.

"So this is England," she said, as she looked round with childlike
curiosity at the great hearth, the oak rafters, and the yokels with
their elaborate smocks and jovial, rubicund, British countenances.

"A bit of it, Mademoiselle," replied Sir Andrew, smiling, "but all of
it, at your service."

The young girl blushed again, but this time a bright smile, fleet and
sweet, illumined her dainty face. She said nothing, and Sir Andrew too
was silent, yet those two young people understood one another, as young
people have a way of doing all the world over, and have done since the
world began.

"But, I say, supper!" here broke in Lord Antony's jovial voice, "supper,