rothers are now dead?"

"I knew that one was," replied I.

"The other, William, died last year," replied Caroline; "his death was a
release, poor fellow, as he had a complaint in the spine for many years.
Do you know what I mean to do? I shall write to aunt Bathurst, to come
and see me."

"Well, I think you will be right in so doing; but will not your father
and mother come to you?"

"No, for they are very angry, and say, that until I come to my senses,
and learn the difference between people, who are somebodies, and people
who are nobodies, they will take no notice of me; and that I may remain
here till I am tired; which they think I shall soon be, and write to
come back again. The last words of my father, when he brought me here
and left me, were,--`I leave you here to come to your senses.' He was
white with anger: but I do not wish to talk any more about them."

"And your time is up, Caroline; so you must go and make room for another
pupil. Miss Greaves is the next."

Shortly after my meeting with Caroline, I received a letter from Lionel,
stating that it was his intention to come over to England for a
fortnight, and asking whether he could execute any commissions for me in
Paris, previous to his departure. He also informed me that he had
received a very kind letter, from his uncle the baronet, who had had
several interviews with Mr Selwyn, and who was fully satisfied with his
identity, and acknowledged him as his nephew. This gave me great
pleasure. I replied to his letter, stating that I should be most happy
to see him, but that as for commissions I was too poor to give him any.
Madame d'Albret had sent her kind souvenirs to me in Lionel's letter,
and I returned them in my reply. Indeed, now that I was earning a
livelihood, and by my own exertions, I felt that I was every day adding
to my means and future independence, a great change, I may safely say
for the better, took place in me. My pride was lessened, that is, my
worst pride was superseded by a more honest one. I had a strange
revulsion in feeling towards Madame d'Albret, Madame Bathurst and Lady
M--, and I felt that I could forgive them all. I was no longer brooding
over my dependent position, fancying, perhaps, insults never intended,
or irritated by real slights. Everything was _couleur de rose_ with me,
and that _couleur_ was reflected upon everything.

"Ah, Mademoiselle Valerie," said Madame Gironac to me one day, "I had no
idea when