ss that
would make you shudder! You cannot guess at the dreadful presentiments
that have haunted me ever since I had my husband's letter.'

'There is danger everywhere, dear friend,' said Lady Nithsdale kindly;
'but God finds a way for us through all.'

'Ah! you have experienced it,' said Madame de Bourke. 'Let us proceed to
the affairs. I only thought I should tell you the truth.'

Lady Nithsdale answered for the courage of her _protege_, and it was
further determined that he should be presented to her that evening by the
Earl, at the farewell reception which Madame de Varennes was to hold on
her daughter's behalf, when it could be determined in what capacity he
should be named in the passport.

Estelle, who had been listening with all her ears, and trying to find a
character in Fenelon's romance to be represented by Arthur Hope, now
further heard it explained that the party were to go southward to meet
her father at one of the Mediterranean ports, as the English Government
were so suspicious of Jacobites that he did not venture on taking the
direct route by sea, but meant to travel through Germany. Madame de
Bourke expected to meet her brother at Avignon, and to obtain his advice
as to her further route.

Estelle heard this with great satisfaction. 'We shall go to the
Mediterranean Sea and be in danger,' she said to herself, unfolding the
map at the beginning of her Telemaque; 'that is quite right! Perhaps we
shall see Calypso's island.'

She begged hard to be allowed to sit up that evening to see the hero of
the escape from the Tower of London, as well as the travelling companion
destined for her, and she prevailed, for mamma pronounced that she had
been very sage and reasonable all day, and the grandmamma, who was so
soon to part with her, could refuse her nothing. So she was full
dressed, with hair curled, and permitted to stand by the tall high-backed
chair where the old lady sat to receive her visitors.

The Marquise de Varennes was a small withered woman, with keen eyes, and
a sort of sparkle of manner, and power of setting people at ease, that
made her the more charming the older she grew. An experienced eye could
detect that she retained the costume of the prime of Louis XIV., when
headdresses were less high than that which her daughter was obliged to
wear. For the two last mortal hours of that busy day had poor Madame de
Bourke been compelled to sit under the hands of the hairdresser, who was