by Adele's blunder. "What a fine
excuse," he mumbled--and he grinned.

He entered the parlour where Lizette was setting things to rights
and demanded in an imperative and angry tone: "Who has done that
mess in the cellar?"

"I did," quietly answered the servant, anxious to shield Adele.

That fib she soon repented to have uttered.

"I give you a month's notice," said Mr. Rougeant, and he was about
to disappear when Lizette, feeling that she was not required any
more, and moved to the quick, turned towards her master.

"I can go now," she said.

"Well, go; so much the better."

That same evening, Mait. Jacques (Mr. Rougeant's workman) drove
Lizette in the "spring cart" to her mother's cottage.

Adele wept. Her father silenced her with a frown. "You will commence
school on Tuesday next," he said.

The little girl looked at her father in surprise, and, an inward
emotion completely mastering her, she recommenced crying.

"How shall I be able to speak to those English people?" she sobbed.

"You can talk English, can't you?" was her father's not
over-consoling remark.

"Only--a--little."

"The person to whom I spoke is a nice lady; now, don't be silly,
child."

"The little girls will laugh at me," she said, drying her tears with
her pinafore.

Her father did not answer her, but sat meditatively pulling on his
enormous nose.

It was nearly midnight when Adele managed to drop to sleep.

Tuesday came. Her father drove her to town in his old phaeton. Then,
taking her by the hand, he led her at No. ----, Grange. The two were
ushered into a small, but prettily furnished drawing-room.

After a few moments, Mdlle. Parmier entered the room, and after
having conversed in French for a few minutes with Mr. Rougeant, the
latter withdrew, bidding good-bye to his daughter who watched him
disappear with a dazed and stupefied air. "Is this a dream?" she
thought. "Ah! would that it were." Never before had she spoken to a
lady from town. She listened to hear Mdlle. Parmier's harsh voice
bid her follow her, but, instead of doing so, the little French lady
advanced towards her and in a gentle tone of voice (so soft, that
Adele stared at her in astonishment) said: "_Miss Euston va bientot
venir. Croyez-vous, ma chere, que cette nouvelle demeure vous
conviendra?_"

"_Oui_," answered Adele, greatly relieved that there was at least
one person here who could talk in French.

Then, while the lady occupied herself with a book