d in reaching St. Malo, and it is not unusual
for visitors to go to Dinard and St. Servan from there. But, apart
from that," he went on, "I found out something so interesting that I
thought I must call and tell you--being in the neighbourhood."

"That was awfully nice of you," said Barbara gratefully, "and I'm so
curious to hear. Please begin at once. You have plenty time to tell
me before we reach the house, and mademoiselle must excuse me talking
just a _little_ English."

"I think the occasion justifies it," he agreed, smiling; then added
apologetically, "I hope you won't mind it being a little personal. I
told you I had come to Europe with my uncle, didn't I? My father left
me to his care when I was quite a little chap, and he has been
immensely good to me. We are great friends, and always share
things--when we can. He could not share this walking tour because he
had business in Paris, but I write him long screeds to keep him up in
my movements. In answer to the letter about our Dol adventure, my
uncle wrote back to say that he had known an English lady long ago
called Miss Anne Britton, and he wondered if this were any
relation--the name was rather uncommon."

The American paused, and looked at his companion.

"Please go on," she cried, "it is so very exciting, and surely it must
have been Aunt Anne."

"He knew her so well," the young man continued slowly, "that--he asked
her to marry him, and--she refused."

Barbara drew a long breath.

"Oh! Fancy Aunt Anne having a romantic story like that! I _should_
like to write and ask her about it. But, of course, I can't; she might
not like it." Then, turning quickly to the American, she added, "I
suppose your uncle won't mind your having told me, will he?"

The young man flushed. "I hope not. He doesn't often speak of such
things; and, though I knew there had been something of the kind, I
didn't know her name. Of course----" He hesitated.

"Yes?" said Barbara.

"Of course, I know you will consider it a story to think about--and not
to speak of. But I thought, as it was your aunt, it would interest
you."

"It does. I'm very glad you told me, because it makes me understand
Aunt Anne better, I think. Poor Aunt Anne! Although, perhaps, you
think your uncle is the one to be sorriest for."

"I am going to join him in Paris to-morrow," he replied a little
irrelevantly.

"To Paris! To-morrow!" echoed Barbara, the thought of Alice rushing
into