ting words spoken to her by Montbarry's
widow:--'We shall meet again--here in England, or there in Venice where
my husband died--and meet for the last time.'

It was an odd coincidence, to say the least of it, that the march of
events should be unexpectedly taking Agnes to Venice, after those words
had been spoken! Was the woman of the mysterious warnings and the wild
black eyes still thousands of miles away in America? Or was the march
of events taking her unexpectedly, too, on the journey to Venice?
Agnes started out of her chair, ashamed of even the momentary
concession to superstition which was implied by the mere presence of
such questions as these in her mind.

She rang the bell, and sent for her little pupils, and announced their
approaching departure to the household. The noisy delight of the
children, the inspiriting effort of packing up in a hurry, roused all
her energies. She dismissed her own absurd misgivings from
consideration, with the contempt that they deserved. She worked as
only women can work, when their hearts are in what they do. The
travellers reached Dublin that day, in time for the boat to England.
Two days later, they were with Lord and Lady Montbarry at Paris.

THE FOURTH PART

CHAPTER XVI

It was only the twentieth of September, when Agnes and the children
reached Paris. Mrs. Norbury and her brother Francis had then already
started on their journey to Italy--at least three weeks before the date
at which the new hotel was to open for the reception of travellers.

The person answerable for this premature departure was Francis Westwick.

Like his younger brother Henry, he had increased his pecuniary
resources by his own enterprise and ingenuity; with this difference,
that his speculations were connected with the Arts. He had made money,
in the first instance, by a weekly newspaper; and he had then invested
his profits in a London theatre. This latter enterprise, admirably
conducted, had been rewarded by the public with steady and liberal
encouragement. Pondering over a new form of theatrical attraction for
the coming winter season, Francis had determined to revive the languid
public taste for the ballet by means of an entertainment of his own
invention, combining dramatic interest with dancing. He was now,
accordingly, in search of the best dancer (possessed of the
indispensable personal attractions) who was to be found in the theatres
of the Continent. Hearing from his forei