filling that poor girl's
head with nonsense. She is just as likely to fancy he is making love to
her as not. Warn her, can't you?"

Joyce shook her head. "It is not easy to persuade Charlotte that
everyone is not ready to fall at her feet, and I am afraid she will
resent any interference; but, oh!" she continued gaily, "I will do
anything now I am not to be sent away from _you_."

Then she hastened upstairs and found Susan and Mary bustling about for
departure.

Joyce told Falcon he was to stay to take care of her, and he shouted for
joy. He had again taken up his post at the open nursery windows, leaning
over the bars, and listening to the ever increasing tumult which reigned
in the city below.

"Oh! dear madam," Susan said; "I don't like to leave you."

"You like to please me, Susan, and there is no danger for me."

"The cellar window is made fast, I know," Susan said, "and he--he can
never come near you again; but suppose the mob should come up here, and
master not be able to reach you."

"That is not likely; by to-morrow all may be quiet, and I shall come to
Down Cottage to see how you have got on. You must give mother my love,
and tell her I know she will like to have Baby Joy to-night, and that
you can sleep with Lettice and Lota."

"Don't be afraid, my darlings," she said, as two little serious faces
were turned up to her, and two little plaintive voices said:

"We want to stay with mother. Falcon is going to stay."

"Falcon is a boy, and he likes to watch the crowds, and does not mind
the noise, and he is going to take care of me. Now then, darlings, run
down and tell father you are ready, while I go and see if grandmother
and Mary, and cousin Charlotte are ready also."

But Mrs. Arundel had determined to remain with Joyce, and said nothing
should tempt her to leave her; her maid Mary should go, and she would
stay behind.

Joyce thought of the rather small accommodation at Down Cottage, and did
not raise any further objection. There was only Charlotte now to hasten.
Joyce found her tying her bonnet and arranging her curls under it, and
turning her head first to one side, then to the other, to catch a
glimpse of her profile in the glass.

"Come, Charlotte, make haste," Joyce said; "they are all ready."

"Is Lord Maythorne coming with us?"

"Yes, as far as the Hotel. If I were you I should not desire his
company."

"Oh! Joyce, he is very nice, quite delightful, and he is--"

"He is given to