er from Adele
Chabot, now Mrs Jervis. But, before I give the letter to my readers, I
must state, that Mr Selwyn, junior, had called upon me the day before
Caroline went to school, and had had a long conversation with her, while
I went out to speak with Madame Gironac on business: further, that Mr
Selwyn, junior, called upon me a few days afterwards, and after a little
common-place conversation, _a l'anglaise_, about the weather, he asked
after Miss Caroline Stanhope, and then asked many questions. As I knew
what he wished, I made to him a full statement of her position, and the
unpleasant predicament in which she was placed. I also stated my
conviction that she was not likely to make a happy match, if her husband
were selected by her father and mother; and how much I regretted it, as
she was a very amiable, kind-hearted girl, who would make an excellent
wife to anyone deserving of her. He thought so, too, and professed
great admiration of her; and having, as he thought, pumped me
sufficiently, he took his leave.

A few days afterwards, he came upon some pretended message from his
father, and then I told him that she was to be removed in October. This
appeared to distress him; but he did not forget to pull out of his
pocket a piece of music, sealed up, telling me that, by mistake,
Caroline had left two pieces of music at Kew, and had taken away one
belonging to his sister Mary; that he returned one, but the other was
mislaid, and would be returned as soon as it was found; and would I
oblige him so far as to request Miss Stanhope to send him the piece of
music belonging to his sister, if she could lay her hand upon it?

"Well, I will do your bidding, Mr Selwyn," replied I; "it is a very
proper message for a music-mistress to take; and I will also bring back
your sister's music, when Caroline gives it me, and you can call here
for it. If I am out, you can ask Madame Gironac to give it to you."
Upon which, with many thanks and much gratitude for my kindness, Mr
Selwyn withdrew.

Having made all this known to the reader, he shall now have the contents
of Adele's letter.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

We must now read Adele's letter.

"My dear Valerie,--The die is cast, and I have now a most difficult game
to play. I have risked all upon it, and the happiness of my future life
is at stake. But let me narrate what has passed since I made you my
confidante. Of course, you must know the day on which I was missing.
On tha