if I could just have Pamela with me."

The woman saw at once that remonstrance would be worse than useless.
Theo was slowly revealing to her that this despairing, terrified young
creature would not understand her resistance in the slightest degree.
She would not comprehend what it meant; so, while Splaighton packed up a
few necessary articles, Theo superintended her, following her from place
to place, with a longing impatience that showed itself in every word and
gesture. She did not dare to do more, poor child. She had never overcome
her secret awe of her waiting-woman. In her inexperienced respect for
her, she even apologized pathetically and appealingly for the liberty
she was taking in calling upon her.

"I am sorry to trouble you," she said, humbly, and feeling terribly
homesick as she said it; "but I could not go alone, you know--and I must
go. There is a lace collar in that little box that you may have,
Splaighton. It is a pretty collar, and I will give you the satin bow
that is fastened to it."

Scarcely two hours later they were on their way to St. Quentin. It never
occurred to Theo, in the midst of her fright and unhappiness, that she
was now doing a very unwise and dangerous thing. She only thought of one
thing, that Denis was going to die. She loved him too much to think of
herself at all, and, besides, she did not, poor innocent, know anything
about such things.

It was a wonderful trial of the little old French doctor's calmness of
mind, when, on his next visit to his patient, he found himself
confronted by a tall, young creature, with a pale, desperate face, and
lovely tear-fraught eyes, instead of by the majestic, elderly person,
the perusal of Lady Throckmorton's last letter to Denis had led him to
expect. It was in the little inn parlor that he first encountered
Theodora North, when she arrived, and on seeing her he gazed over his
spectacles, first at herself, and then at the respectable Splaighton, in
a maze of bewilderment, at seemingly having made so strange a blunder.

"Lady Throckmorton?" he said, at last, in English, or in a broken
attempt at it. "Oh! _Oui_--I understand. The sister of monsieur? Ah,
milady?"

Theo broke in upon him in a passionate impulse of fear and grief.

"No," she said. "I am not Lady Throckmorton. I am only her niece,
Theodora North. My aunt was away when your telegram arrived, and--and I
knew some one must come--so I came myself. Splaighton and I can take
care of Mr