e, I thought you were at Brighton," said Caroline.

"I was yesterday, and I am here to-day; I am come to dine with you,"
replied Adele, taking off her bonnet and shawl, and smoothing her hair
before the glass. "Where's Madame Gironac?"

"Gone out to give a lesson in flower-making," replied I. "Yes, she is
like the little busy bees, always on the wing, and, as the hymn says,
`How neat she spread her wax!' and Monsieur, where is he?"

"Gone out to give a lesson, also," replied I. "Yes, he's like the wind,
always blowing, one hour the flute, another the French horn, then the
bassoon or the bugle, always blowing and always shifting from one point
to the other; never a calm with him, for when he comes home there's a
breeze with his wife, _a l'aimable_, to be sure."

"Yes," replied Caroline, "always blowing, but never coming to blows."

"You are witty, Mademoiselle Caroline," said Adele, "with your paradox.
Do you know that I had an adventure at Brighton, and I am taken for you,
by a very fashionable young man?"

"How can you have been taken for me?" said Caroline. "The gentleman
wished to find out who I was, and I would not tell him. He inquired of
the chambermaid of the lodging-house, and bribed her, I presume, for the
next day she came up to my room and asked me for my card, that her
mistress might write my name down correctly in the book. I knew that
the mistress had not sent her, as I had, by her request, entered my own
name in the book three days before, and I was therefore certain that it
was to find out who I was for the gentleman who followed me everywhere.
I recollected that I had a card of yours in my case, and I gave it to
her very quietly, and she walked off with it. The next day, when I was
at the library, the gentleman addressed me by your name; I told him that
it was not my name, and requested that he would not address me again.
When I left Brighton yesterday, I discovered the chambermaid copying the
addresses I had put on my trunks, which was your name, at Mrs
Bradshaw's; so now I think we shall have some fun."

"But, my dear Adele, you have not been prudent; you may compromise
Caroline very much," said I; "recollect that men talk, and something
unpleasant may occur from this want of discretion on your part."

"Be not afraid, Valerie; I conducted myself with such prudery that an
angel's character could not suffer."

"I do not mean to hint otherwise, Adele, but still you must acknowledge
that y