h was your own, and which
you could well spare, but not at all pretty under present
circumstances."

"On est la pour Mademoiselle Fanshawe!" was announced by the portress,
and away she tripped.

This semi-mystery of the _parure_ was not solved till two or three days
afterwards, when she came to make a voluntary confession.

"You need not be sulky with me," she began, "in the idea that I am
running somebody, papa or M. de Bassompierre, deeply into debt. I
assure you nothing remains unpaid for, but the few dresses I have
lately had: all the rest is settled."

"There," I thought, "lies the mystery; considering that they were not
given you by Mrs. Cholmondeley, and that your own means are limited to
a few shillings, of which I know you to be excessively careful."

"Ecoutez!" she went on, drawing near and speaking in her most
confidential and coaxing tone; for my "sulkiness" was inconvenient to
her: she liked me to be in a talking and listening mood, even if I only
talked to chide and listened to rail. "Ecoutez, chere grogneuse! I will
tell you all how and about it; and you will then see, not only how
right the whole thing is, but how cleverly managed. In the first place,
I _must_ go out. Papa himself said that he wished me to see something
of the world; he particularly remarked to Mrs. Cholmondeley, that,
though I was a sweet creature enough, I had rather a
bread-and-butter-eating, school-girl air; of which it was his special
desire that I should get rid, by an introduction to society here,
before I make my regular debut in England. Well, then, if I go out, I
_must_ dress. Mrs. Cholmondeley is turned shabby, and will give nothing
more; it would be too hard upon uncle to make him pay for _all_ the
things I need: _that_ you can't deny--_that_ agrees with your own
preachments. Well, but SOMEBODY who heard me (quite by chance, I assure
you) complaining to Mrs. Cholmondeley of my distressed circumstances,
and what straits I was put to for an ornament or two--_somebody_, far
from grudging one a present, was quite delighted at the idea of being
permitted to offer some trifle. You should have seen what a _blanc-bec_
he looked when he first spoke of it: how he hesitated and blushed, and
positively trembled from fear of a repulse."

"That will do, Miss Fanshawe. I suppose I am to understand that M.
Isidore is the benefactor: that it is from him you have accepted that
costly _parure_; that he supplies your bouquets and your glo