to
assist her. Also, if Anne was really there in person, then, when all the
duets were sung, and the novelty (as well as difficulty) over, Mrs.
Lorrington would be the first to weary of her protegee, and would let
her fall like a faded leaf. And that would be the end of that. Here a
sudden and new idea came to her: might not this very life at Caryl's
break up, of itself, the engagement which was so obnoxious? If she
should bring Anne here and introduce her as her niece, might not her
very ignorance of the world and crude simplicity attract the attention
of some of the loungers at Caryl's, who, if they exerted themselves,
would have little difficulty in effacing the memory of that boy on the
island? They would not, of course, be in earnest, but the result would
be accomplished all the same. Anne was impressionable, and truthfulness
itself. Yes, it could be done.

Accompanied by her elderly maid, she went back to New York; and then out
to the half-house.

"I have changed my mind," she announced, abruptly, taking her seat upon
Jeanne-Armande's hard sofa. "You are to come with me. This is the blue
room, I suppose; and there are the four cats. Where is the bodiced
woman? Send her to me; and go pack your clothes immediately."

"Am I to go to Caryl's--where Helen is?" said Anne, in excited surprise.

"Yes; you will see your Helen. You understand, I presume, that she is at
the bottom of all this."

"But--do you like Helen, grandaunt?"

"I am extremely fond of her," replied Miss Vanhorn, dryly. "Run and make
ready; and send the bodiced woman to me. I give you half an hour; no
longer."

Jeanne-Armande came in with her gliding step. In her youth a lady's
footfall was never heard. She wore long narrow cloth gaiters without
heels, met at the ankles by two modest ruffles, whose edges were visible
when the wind blew. The exposure of even a hair's-breadth rim of ankle
would have seemed to her an unpardonable impropriety. However, there was
no danger; the ruffles swept the ground.

The Frenchwoman was grieved to part with her pupil; she had conceived a
real affection for her in the busy spot which served her as a heart. She
said good-by in the privacy of the kitchen, that Miss Vanhorn might not
see the tears in her eyes; then she returned to the blue room and went
through a second farewell, with a dignity appropriate to the occasion.

"Good-by," said Anne, coming back from the doorway to kiss her thin
cheek a second time. Th