Mademoiselle 
 
 Ixe
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE 
 
 PSEUDONYM LIBRARY
 
 THE 
 
 PSEUDONYM LIBRARY. 
 
 Paper, price 1/6. 
 
 i. MLLE. IXE. By LANOE 
 FALCONER. 
 
 3. STORY OF ELEANOR 
 LAMBERT. By MAGDA- 
 LEN BROOKE. 
 
 3. MYSTERY OF THE 
 
 CAMPAGNA. By VON 
 DEGEN.
 
 LANOE FALCONER. 
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE 
 
 LONDON 
 T. FISHER UNW1N 
 
 PATERNOSTER SQUARE 
 
 M DCCC XCI
 
 Thou art a soul in bliss ; but I am bound 
 Upon a wheel of fire that mine own tears 
 Do scald like molten lead.'" 
 
 LEAR.
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 I. 
 
 EXPECT her every 
 minute," said Mrs. 
 Merrington ; " the 
 
 train arrives at 3.30." 
 
 " l h P e she wil1 be 
 a success," said Mrs. 
 
 Barnes, the vicar's wife. 
 
 " Oh, I hope so indeed ; we 
 have been so unfortunate lately. 
 Miss West I really liked ; such 
 a ladylike person. Her touch 
 on the piano was lovely, and 
 her French quite Parisian, but 
 she did not spell very correctly, 
 and she knew nothing of arith- 
 metic, and so much is expected 
 in that way nowadays. The 
 Fraulein knew everything ; it 
 
 20173C1
 
 2 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 was quite wonderful; but then 
 her manners were very strange, 
 and Mr. Merrington said it made 
 him feel ill to lunch with a per- 
 son who never washed her hands, 
 and certainly she was very dirty. 
 Miss Olivier was everything one 
 could wish as far as teaching 
 went, and Evelyn improved under 
 her very much, but she had very 
 peculiar views, and indeed went 
 as far as ladies' rights ; so of 
 course I was not sorry when she 
 left ; and as for Miss Bond, she 
 was unsatisfactory in many 
 ways." 
 
 The last phrase was, as it 
 sounded, the outcome of a second 
 thought. Mrs. Merrington had 
 been about to say, " So terribly 
 High Church," but with a timely 
 recollection of the views of her 
 listener, suddenly altered her 
 mind and her conclusion. 
 
 " Where did you hear of this 
 one? " 
 
 " My sister Lady Carline, 
 you know recommended her. 
 When they were in Florence she
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 3 
 
 used to give French and music 
 lessons to my niece. She came 
 to England only a week ago, to 
 try and find a situation in an 
 English family, and saw my ad- 
 vertisement was it not strange? 
 and remembered that I was a 
 sister of Lady Carline's, and so 
 she called upon my sister, and 
 begged her to recommend her to 
 me. She seems just what I 
 want : a first-rate pianist, and 
 knows several languages, and 
 Latin enough to ground Freddy. 
 So thoroughly accustomed, too, 
 to English ways which is a 
 great comfort as she had so 
 many English pupils in Florence." 
 
 "I suppose she is an Italian?" 
 
 " No, I don't think she is an 
 Italian exactly. I am not quite 
 sure what she is. Her name 
 rather peculiar is Ixe." 
 
 " Ixe, did you say ? " 
 
 " Yes. It is spelt I X E. 
 Evelyn says it should be pro- 
 nounced Ixe, like 'eeks in weeks, 
 but we don't know whether it is 
 a French or a German name."
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 " At any rate, she is a 
 foreigner ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes!" 
 
 " A Roman Catholic ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! Oh, dear, no ! " 
 
 "The great objection to foreign 
 governesses, in my opinion, is 
 that they are always either 
 Roman Catholics or nothing." 
 
 Mrs. Merrington gave a little 
 cry of dismay ; but, recovering 
 herself, said 
 
 " But that cannot be the case 
 with Mademoiselle Ixe, for my 
 sister is very particular most 
 particular in that way. On the 
 contrary, I remember now, poor 
 thing, she has had a great deal of 
 trouble about her religion, for she 
 is separated from her family on 
 account of her views." 
 
 " I suppose you mean she has 
 changed her religion ? " 
 
 " Yes, that is what I under- 
 stood. My sister said Evelyn, 
 
 Evelyn, what did your aunt say 
 about Mademoiselle Ixe's re- 
 ligious opinions ? " 
 
 The young girl thus appealed
 
 MADEMOISELLE 1XE. 5 
 
 to sat a little way behind Mrs. 
 Merrington, and was engaged in 
 what appeared to be an acri- 
 monious discussion with the 
 young man beside her. To him 
 she now said sharply 
 
 " Please do hold your tongue 
 for one moment, Parry, I cannot 
 hear what mamma is saying." 
 
 And then, turning to her 
 mother, answered 
 
 " I forget. Oh ! yes now I 
 remember something about her 
 detesting anything like Roman- 
 ism as much as Aunt Charlotte 
 did." 
 
 " I did not mean that," said 
 Mrs. Merrington, hastily, ob- 
 serving a shade on Mrs. Barnes' 
 face. " But about Mademoiselle 
 Ixe and her family. I think the 
 letter is here somewhere. Yes ; 
 this is it." She read aloud 
 
 " The poor soul has been 
 separated from her relations by 
 serious difference of opinion for 
 some years. It is a painful sub- 
 ject with her, and I advise you 
 not to allude to it."
 
 6 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 " Hum ! " exclaimed Mrs. 
 Barnes, in so unpleasantly signi- 
 ficant a tone that Mrs. Merring- 
 ton was glad to change the 
 subject. 
 
 " My dear," she said, address- 
 ing some one hidden behind an 
 outspread sheet of The Times, 
 11 ought not the carriage to have 
 been back from the station by 
 this time ? " 
 
 The question had to be re- 
 peated before the paper was 
 lowered, and Mr. Merrington's 
 weather-beaten, grey-whiskered 
 face disclosed. 
 
 " Certainly not," was his 
 answer, " if Giles brings the 
 horses quietly along, as he ought 
 to. Carchester Junction is a 
 mile beyond Carchester town ; 
 that makes ten miles and a half 
 good from here." 
 
 " Ten miles and a half ! " 
 repeated the young man who 
 was seated beside Evelyn. " Not 
 quite so far as that, is it, Mr. 
 Merrington ? " 
 
 But this ancient dispute was
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 7 
 
 suspended for the moment by the 
 sound of a ring at the front 
 door. 
 
 " There she is ! " exclaimed 
 Mrs. Merrington, and went out 
 into the hall to greet the new- 
 comer. 
 
 The others listened with great 
 interest to the bustle of the 
 arrival. 
 
 " I do hope she will not be 
 dull," said Evelyn, in a low voice, 
 to Parry. 
 
 " Why should she be dull ? " 
 
 " Because every one is in this 
 neighbourhood. Hush ! here she 
 comes." 
 
 There are those who at first 
 sight impress us not at all : there 
 are those who impress us most 
 distinctly. Mademoiselle Ixe evi- 
 dently belonged to the first class, 
 and it was the more singular as 
 nothing could have been less re- 
 markable than the appearance of 
 this short, plain woman of un- 
 certain age, in a brown ulster 
 and a black straw bonnet. She
 
 8 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 was very dark, with the dull 
 lustreless complexion of a skin 
 which is thick as well as sallow. 
 The contour of the face was 
 broad, and the features, though 
 not large, were clumsily moulded. 
 The mouth was the best of 
 them; the lips were well-formed, 
 and the line which divided them 
 suggestive of calm and even 
 sweetness. With this something 
 in the upper part of the face 
 clashed strangely. Evelyn, the 
 quickest observer of all present, 
 was the first to discover that 
 this effect was produced by the 
 curious angle formed by the thick 
 black eyebrows which declined 
 abruptlyfromthe temples towards 
 the nose. 
 
 " Pray sit down, Mademoiselle," 
 said Mrs. Merrington, when the 
 ceremony of introduction was 
 completed, " I am sure you will 
 be glad of a cup of tea after your 
 journey. Do you take sugar ? " 
 
 " No sugar, no milk, thank 
 you, Madame."
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 The voice in which those words 
 were spoken was low and deep, 
 and, as Evelyn again observed, 
 of so penetrating a quality that 
 every syllable might have been 
 heard at the further end of the 
 long drawing-room in which they 
 sat. 
 
 " I am afraid you found the 
 drive from the station very 
 tedious," said Mrs. Merrington, 
 politely. 
 
 " No, Madame," replied Made- 
 moiselle Ixe, who, it appeared, 
 always softened her English sen- 
 tences by titles borrowed from 
 a more courteous tongue ; " I 
 was interested in watching the 
 country. I looked for, but I did 
 not perceive, the beautiful castle 
 of which Lady Carline has 
 spoken to me so many times." 
 
 " Beautiful castle! That must 
 be Lingford Castle." 
 
 "Yes, Madame ; I think so." 
 
 " It lies quite in the opposite 
 direction. It is a very fine 
 place," said Mrs. Merrington, 
 looking at Parry, who was now
 
 TO MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 handing cakes to the ladies. 
 " It belongs to Mr. Lethbridge." 
 
 " Indeed," said Mademoiselle 
 Ixe, glancing quickly towards 
 that young gentleman. " Mr. 
 Lethbridge is fortunate." 
 
 " Will belong to me, you 
 mean, Mrs. Merrington," said 
 Parry, rather moodily, " if I live 
 long enough." 
 
 " I think you may last for 
 three years yet with care, Parry," 
 said Mr. Merrington, half satiri- 
 cally, half admiringly, contem- 
 plating the tall, deep-chested, 
 broad-shouldered young man. 
 
 " Mr. Lethbridge does not 
 succeed to his property till he is 
 twenty-three," explained Mrs. 
 Merrington. "The trustees have 
 let it the castle, I mean to 
 his half-brother, Mr. Cosmo 
 Fox." 
 
 "The husband of the beauty?" 
 asked Mademoiselle Ixe. 
 
 " Some people consider her 
 so," said Mrs. Merrington, coldly. 
 
 " She is perfectly lovely," cried 
 Evelyn, with enthusiasm.
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. II 
 
 " She is the handsomest woman 
 in the county," said Mr. Merring- 
 ton. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know about that," 
 said Parry, looking lovingly at 
 Evelyn's blonde head. 
 
 " I consider Miss Duncombe 
 better-looking," said Mrs. Barnes. 
 
 From under Mademoiselle 
 Ixe's heavy brows a steady and 
 penetrating gaze travelled slowly 
 and curiously from one speaker 
 to the other, whilst her lips pre- 
 served an expression of amiable 
 deference. 
 
 " I suppose," was her next 
 remark, " that they live much 
 in the world, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Cosmo Fox, and receive a great 
 deal at their beautiful home ? " 
 
 " Yes, worse luck ! " observed 
 Parry. 
 
 " You do not like society, 
 Monsieur ? " 
 
 " It depends what society it 
 is," said Parry, somewhat senten- 
 tiously. 
 
 " Mr. Lethbridge only cares 
 for people who can kill some-
 
 12 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 thing," explained Evelyn, dis- 
 dainfully. 
 
 " Well, I do," avowed Parry, 
 colouring ; " I like a man to be 
 a sportsman, don't you, Mr. 
 Merrington ? " 
 
 " Certainly, my dear boy." 
 
 " I hate a fellow who daren't 
 wet his feet and can't load his 
 own gun, and I hate " 
 
 " Foreigners," he would have 
 said, but with a rare visitation 
 of tact, checked himself and 
 substituted " Germans," con- 
 cluding from her accent that the 
 stranger could not possibly belong 
 to that people. 
 
 " Mr. Cosmo Fox has a great 
 many foreign friends," observed 
 Mrs. Merrington ; " he lived 
 abroad a good deal when he was 
 in the diplomatic service." 
 
 Mrs. Barnes' prolonged and 
 most unwonted silence was not 
 the symptom of an idle or in- 
 attentive mind. Her endeavour 
 had been by silent observation of 
 the new-comer to discover what 
 kind of person she might be, and
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 13 
 
 now, finding herself completely 
 baffled, she adopted a different 
 method of inquiry. 
 
 "You speak English so fluently," 
 she began, in her high, harsh 
 voice, " I suppose you know 
 England very well." 
 
 " Not England, Madame," re- 
 plied the foreign governess, with 
 a modulation of her words that, 
 after Mrs. Barnes' uncompro- 
 mising tone, sounded wooingly 
 gentle ; " the English I have 
 learned to know well abroad. 
 This is my first visit to England ; 
 I have only been a week here." 
 
 " Indeed ! You must already 
 have noticed a great difference 
 between this and and 
 
 " Every other country. In- 
 deed I do, Madame." 
 
 But this was not the informa- 
 tion of which Mrs. Barnes was 
 in quest. She made another 
 attempt upon a different line.' 
 
 " Do you consider the Roman 
 Catholic Church is gaining 
 ground in your country ? " 
 
 "No, Madame; on the contrary,
 
 14 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 the Roman Catholic Church is 
 losing ground." 
 
 "You mean in in 
 
 " All over the Continent, 
 Madame." 
 
 " I am thankful to hear it," 
 cried Mrs. Merrington, fervently. 
 
 " But what takes its place ? " 
 cried Mrs. Barnes. 
 
 " Nothing can take its place, 
 Madame." 
 
 " Ha ! And the people ; what 
 becomes of them ? " 
 
 "Well, Madame, they adopt 
 emancipated opinions of various 
 kinds ; chiefly atheistic." 
 
 " Just what I imagined ! " 
 
 " But why do they not become 
 Protestants ? " cried Mrs. Mer- 
 rington, in an aggrieved tone, 
 exasperated by this instance of 
 human perversity. 
 
 " It would be little good if 
 they did," said Mrs. Barnes," 
 " for the Protestant sects abroad 
 are all, it is well known, beyond 
 the pale of the Catholic and 
 Apostolic Church." 
 
 Mrs. Barnes, as she spoke,
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 15 
 
 looked steadily and defiantly at 
 the martyr to Protestant con- 
 victions, but Mademoiselle Ixe's 
 only acknowledgment of the 
 assertion was a bland smile 
 which would have been equally, 
 or perhaps more, appropriate if 
 Mrs. Barnes had said that it 
 was a fine day. Mrs. Merring- 
 ton coughed and suggested that 
 Mademoiselle Ixe might like to 
 see her room. 
 
 " I think she is nice," observed 
 Mrs. Merrington, looking cheer- 
 fully and inquiringly round when 
 the door had closed behind 
 Evelyn and the new governess. 
 " She seems to me a plain, 
 sensible young woman." 
 
 " There is certainly no doubt 
 about her being plain," said Mrs. 
 Barnes, dryly. " As to young, 
 that is a matter of opinion ; but 
 if she is as sensible as she is 
 plain, she ought to do." 
 
 " By George, yes ! she isn't 
 handsome," said Parry, standing 
 on the hearthrug and looking 
 straight before him as if he saw
 
 1 6 MADEMOISELLE 1XE. 
 
 her still, and marvelled at her 
 lack of beauty. 
 
 " For my part," said Mrs. 
 Merrington, with some dignity, 
 being wounded by the disparaging 
 tone of these comments, "I think 
 good looks are rather out of place 
 in a governess." 
 
 " I quite agree with you," said 
 Mrs. Barnes, " and I have no- 
 thing to say against her looks or 
 her dress, which for a foreigner 
 is in wonderfully good taste, but 
 I wish, my dear Mrs, Merrington, 
 you knew something more about 
 her connections and her opinions. 
 She was very reserved about it 
 all, did you notice ? " 
 
 " Well, you see it is alto- 
 gether rather a painful subject. 
 I did not like to be too pressing 
 at first, you know ; but in a few 
 days I have no doubt we shall 
 know more. As to her religion, 
 I feel sure that is quite safe, 
 because my sister is so very par- 
 ticular." 
 
 At this Mrs. Barnes drew her 
 lips tightly together, as if re-
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 pressing an overwhelming reply, 
 and then gravely took her leave. 
 The men withdrew also, leaving 
 poor Mrs. Merrington, who was 
 keenly sensitive to other people's 
 opinions, in a state of some dis- 
 couragement. From this, how- 
 ever, she was happily rescued by 
 Evelyn, half an hour later. 
 
 " She is getting on beautifully 
 with the children. They have 
 actually begun by doing what she 
 tells them ; I wonder why? " said 
 Evelyn, looking dreamily out of 
 the window, and speaking as 
 much to herself as to her mother. 
 "They were so different at first 
 with Miss West, for instance, 
 who made so much of them at 
 once. The very first afternoon, 
 directly she had put everything 
 in order in the schoolroom they 
 set to work to make it all in a 
 mess again. Now Mademoiselle 
 Ixe first looks round as she is 
 taking off her gloves, and, in a 
 matter-of-course way, says, ' It 
 is nearly six o'clock. You will 
 not have the room tidy by tea-
 
 1 8 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 time unless you begin to put your 
 things away and arrange the 
 furniture directly.' And they 
 actually began doing so." 
 
 " Poor darlings ! I always said 
 that all they required was a little 
 tact." 
 
 " And Winifred, too, that 
 peevish little thing who will 
 hardly make friends with any 
 one, never shrieked when Made- 
 moiselle Ixe spoke to her, and 
 even let her take her in her arms 
 for half a minute." 
 
 " Winifred is a sweet child, 
 Evelyn, only nobody understands 
 her." 
 
 " How is it Mademoiselle Ixe 
 understands her, I wonder ? She 
 said she was a child who would 
 require a very gentle hand, as 
 her nerves were too irritable." 
 
 " I am sure I shall like her," 
 cried Mrs. Merrington, enthusias- 
 tically. 
 
 " I feel sure I shall." 
 
 " She seems so nice and quiet." 
 
 At this point, however, they 
 separated. Evelyn could never
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 1 9 
 
 have admired anybody for being 
 nice and quiet, nor did she con- 
 sider that Mademoiselle Ixe de- 
 served to be so described. 
 
 The new governess declined to 
 dine with the family that evening, 
 but joined them later on in the 
 drawing-room. Mrs. Merrington 
 found subject for approbation in 
 Mademoiselle Ixe's attire as 
 being, like , herself, " nice and 
 quiet." Evelyn, on the contrary, 
 thought she had never seen any- 
 thing less gracefully arranged 
 than the black folds which fell 
 loosely round the sturdy figure. 
 She was, however, too intent 
 upon the woman herself to have 
 much attention to spare for the 
 fashion of her garments. 
 
 She made haste to open the 
 grand piano, feeling certain that 
 Mademoiselle Ixe's playing, like 
 herself, would be remarkable. 
 Never had Evelyn been more 
 disappointed. Mademoiselle 
 
 Ixe's performance displayed 
 brilliant powers of execution, but 
 nothing more. What more, in-
 
 MADEMOISELLE JXE. 
 
 deed, could have been done, 
 Evelyn reflected, with the piece 
 selected? St. Cecilia herself might 
 have failed to infuse with musical 
 life a succession of scales and 
 arpeggios which was supposed to 
 imitate the murmur of rippling 
 water. 
 
 " That is perfectly charming," 
 cried Mrs. Merrington " that is 
 the kind of music I like." 
 
 " I chose it especially for you, 
 Madame," said Mademoiselle 
 Ixe, and she played another of 
 the same sort. 
 
 " I hope you will teach Evelyn 
 some of these pretty things," 
 said Mrs. Merrington. " There 
 is something so ladylike about 
 them. Evelyn is too fond of 
 wild music without any tune in 
 it. My dear, is not that a sweet 
 thing which Mademoiselle Ixe 
 has just played ? " 
 
 " I don't pretend to be a judge 
 of music," answered Mr. Mer- 
 rington, from his deep chair 
 beside the fire, " but if you ask 
 my opinion, I like something
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 very soft. I don't think music 
 can be too soft." 
 
 " I quite understand," said 
 Mademoiselle Ixe, and then she 
 played something which was 
 rather monotonous, and never 
 rose above pianissimo. 
 
 "Ah! that is very nice," said 
 Mr. Merrington, and he fell fast 
 asleep. 
 
 " I feel so tired," announced 
 Mrs. Merrington, after her in- 
 variable custom, about a quarter 
 to ten, " that I really must go to 
 bed. Evelyn, my darling, you 
 will see that Mademoiselle Ixe 
 has everything she wants ; and 
 please, Mademoiselle, do not 
 allow her to sit up late over her 
 novel as she is inclined to 
 do." 
 
 But a little time after Mr. and 
 Mrs. Merrington had departed, 
 the novel lay unheeded on 
 Evelyn's lap. Mademoiselle Ixe 
 was playing again, this time 
 something which was neither 
 soft nor sweet. Evelyn had 
 listened often enough in English
 
 22 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 concert - rooms and drawing - 
 rooms to this music of Eastern 
 Europe, which the West ad- 
 mirers but hardly comprehends ; 
 for one reason, because in the 
 West it is rarely heard. More 
 than the utmost mechanical pre- 
 cision and ordinary good taste is 
 required for the interpretation 
 of this strange musical tongue. 
 Whatever this mysterious faculty 
 may be, Mademoiselle Ixe un- 
 doubtedly possessed it, and 
 Evelyn, listening to her, dis- 
 covered that she had never, until 
 then, heard anything but the 
 letter of this music ; and the 
 spirit of it thus revealed was 
 anguish that cannot rest, tor- 
 ment that sees no outlet on 
 earth, no comfort in heaven : 
 the shadow of an unrighteous 
 and pitiless dominion in which 
 the hope of generations has 
 fainted and their faith has waxed 
 dim. 
 
 Evelyn was too ignorant of 
 other races than her own, as well 
 as of their histories past or pre-
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 23 
 
 sent, to understand all this, but 
 she felt that she was hearing 
 the cry of a sorrow too deep for 
 her to fathom, and when the 
 playing ceased and nothing was 
 heard but the comfortable noises 
 of the ticking clock and the 
 crackling coal fire, she looked 
 round upon the scene and 
 symbols of her tranquil everyday 
 life as one might have done who 
 had been wandering with Dante 
 in the circles of the lost. 
 
 " How beautifully you play ! " 
 exclaimed Evelyn, as they passed 
 into the hall together. " I sup- 
 pose you have had lessons from 
 many different masters ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but my last was the 
 best." 
 
 " Indeed ! He taught very 
 well, I suppose." 
 
 " Yes, very well. He is severe 
 cruel even." 
 
 " I don't think I should like 
 him." 
 
 " It is very possible. He is 
 not much sought after. Still his 
 method is unequalled. That
 
 24 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 which he teaches you can rarely 
 forget." 
 
 The light of the candle which 
 Evelyn had just given to Made- 
 moiselle Ixe, flickering on her 
 dark face, gave to it a singular ex- 
 pression as she spoke these words, 
 over which Evelyn pondered, 
 wondering, till she fell asleep. 
 
 She had never longed for any 
 third volume so eagerly as she 
 longed for her first interview 
 with the new go.verness next day. 
 As her lesson-hour was not till 
 the afternoon, it seemed likely 
 she would have to bridle her im- 
 patience until then, but Made- 
 moiselle Ixe and her younger 
 pupils returned from their morn- 
 ing walk so early that Evelyn 
 was able to propose a turn in the 
 grounds before luncheon. Made- 
 moiselle Ixe readily consented, 
 and Evelyn led the way, her 
 favourite one for a morning 
 saunter. They went along a 
 broad gravel walk which skirted 
 the front and one side of the 
 house, and then led through a
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 2$ 
 
 thick shrubbery into the kitchen 
 garden. 
 
 "It is not exactly pretty here, 
 but it is dry and warm," said 
 Evelyn, as they followed a gravel 
 path, sheltered from the north 
 by high red walls and a phalanx 
 of elms in the park outside. 
 They walked up and down, in- 
 haling the sweet scents of the 
 sun-steeped garden, and hearing 
 the fussy rooks cawing hoarsely 
 overhead. 
 
 "You have a charming home," 
 said Mademoiselle Ixe, thought- 
 fully, speaking in French, as she 
 always did with her pupils. 
 
 " Yes," replied Evelyn, un- 
 decidedly, " it is very dull." 
 
 "Dull," repeated Mademoiselle 
 Ixe, with a quaint, foreign pro- 
 nunciation of the word. " Is 
 dull the same as ennuyeux ? " 
 
 " No ; I think not. A person 
 is ennuye because he or she can- 
 not be easily amused. Now, 
 I can enjoy things well enough 
 if only there was anything par- 
 ticular to enjoy." 
 3
 
 26 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 " How ! If there were any- 
 thing to enjoy ! You who have 
 youth, health, beauty ! " 
 
 " But what is the good of all 
 
 that without if one lives in 
 
 a desert ? " 
 
 " Ah ! you require an audi- 
 ence." 
 
 "No; but I should like to 
 spend some months at least in a 
 gayer place than this." 
 
 " London, perhaps, in the 
 season ? " 
 
 " Yes. It is quite natural, is 
 it not ? " 
 
 " Perfectly. And you will 
 later?" 
 
 " No. Papa says now that 
 he only gets half his rents, he 
 cannot afford it." 
 
 " Ah ! it is always like that in 
 life. Something invariably is 
 wanting. All that I can say to 
 console you, dear child, is that 
 the real London season is very 
 different to that smiling image 
 you form of it. In reality, do 
 you see, however agreeable it 
 may be, there is always some-
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 27 
 
 thing displeasing, something pro- 
 saic, which one never finds in 
 castles in the air. And again, 
 let me assure you, you might 
 make the round of London sea-. 
 sons without once meeting . an 
 admirer so devoted and so worthy 
 as you already possess." 
 " Who can that be ? " 
 " Mr. Lethbridge." 
 " Parry ! Is that all ? " 
 "Why do you speak of him 
 thus? I can only imagine one 
 drawback. All your family would 
 be enchanted if you accepted 
 him. I avow that is unromantic. 
 Still one cannot have everything,, 
 and there is so much to attract 
 you. He is so honest, so affec- 
 tionate, so strong, so hand- 
 some." 
 
 " Handsome ; I never thought 
 of his being handsome. I sup- 
 pose he is. He is a dear old 
 thing in some ways, but so 
 stupid." 
 
 " Ah ! but no, Mademoiselle. 
 You deceive yourself. His intel- 
 ligence is slow, but forgive me
 
 28 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 in some things more depend- 
 able than your own. His forte 
 is in action, not in thought. 
 Ask him for an idea, I admit he 
 has not one to give you but for 
 action, prompt, bold, and to the 
 point that is another thing." 
 
 " It is true," said Evelyn, with 
 some animation ; " it was cer- 
 tainly Parry's coolness and pre- 
 sence of mind which saved us all 
 when the horses ran away down 
 
 Tidbury Hill, and But how," 
 
 she said, stopping suddenly and 
 looking at Mademoiselle Ixe, 
 "how do you know all this about 
 him ? " 
 
 " I have learnt to read charac- 
 ter as one interprets cypher. His 
 is very easy. It is as transparent 
 as pure water. It hides nothing 
 because it has nothing to hide. 
 I congratulate you on your ad- 
 mirer, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Parry is very well, but he is 
 dull, and it is the same with 
 everything else. My life here is 
 very happy, but it is so dull. I 
 sometimes think I should like a
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 29 
 
 little less happiness if it might 
 make life less dull." 
 
 " You do not know what you 
 are saying," said Mademoiselle 
 Ixe, gravely. 
 
 They had left the garden 
 during this conversation, and 
 now they emerged from the 
 shrubbery. They saw before 
 them the smooth lawn and 
 trimmed foreign shrubs of the 
 pleasure-grounds, and the Park 
 with its winter-bleached sward 
 and leafless trees declining to 
 the valley where the thatched 
 roofs, red chimneys, and one tall 
 spire marked the undulating line 
 of the little village street. There 
 was not a cloud in all the pale 
 blue sky; the smoke from the 
 cottage fires rose straight into 
 the windless air; and in the 
 great stillness, noises from the 
 hollow and the further hill came 
 clearly to them ; the bleating of 
 lambs, the barking of> a chained 
 dog, the creak of waggon-wheels, 
 and the shrill voices of children 
 upon the road, all blended and
 
 30 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 mellowed by distance into a 
 sweet and melancholy murmur. 
 
 " What a landscape ! " said 
 Mademoiselle Ixe. " What tran- 
 quillity ! What peace! It is 
 asleep." 
 
 She lowered her voice, in say- 
 ing these last words as if she 
 feared to waken something. 
 
 " Do you admire it so much ?" 
 
 " I do not know. It was not 
 of its beauty I was thinking. I 
 am not certain that I care much 
 for beauty. That scandalizes 
 you, does it not ? It is heresy. 
 Ah ! when I was as young and 
 as happy as you, I too cared for 
 beauty. Now, it is different. I 
 am too tired." 
 
 The bright spring daylight 
 shining mercilessly on her face 
 as she spoke, disclosed to Evelyn 
 intently watching her deep 
 lines round the mouth and eyes, 
 which strangely moved the young 
 girl's pity, she hardly knew why. 
 They were indeed the grim cha- 
 racters of suffering rather than of 
 time, and in Evelyn's faulty and
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 31 
 
 selfish little nature there lay the 
 saving grace of sympathy for 
 others. 
 
 " No, I do not care for beauty 
 or for joy," continued Mademoi- 
 selle Ixe. " Rest and peace. 
 Behold my heaven." 
 
 " Rest and peace ! " lightly 
 repeated Evelyn, though strug- 
 gling against a strong inclination 
 to cry. " If that is heaven, I 
 don't think I should care for 
 heaven." 
 
 " Probably not," said Made- 
 moiselle Ixe, quietly. "We never, 
 I suppose, appreciate heaven till 
 we have at least looked into hell." 
 
 The first luncheon-bell began 
 ringing, and they proceeded at 
 once to the house. Evelyn 'was 
 late that day for luncheon, for 
 when she reached her room she 
 stood motionless, looking straight 
 before her, rapt in meditation, 
 from which she was only roused 
 by the second bell. 
 
 " Whoever or whatever Made- 
 moiselle Ixe may be," was her 
 conclusion, "she is certainly 
 not dull."
 
 II. 
 
 1VELYN had the dis- 
 cretion not to repeat 
 Mademoiselle Ixe's 
 somewhat enigmatical 
 remarks, for however 
 interesting, it could not 
 be said to come under Mrs. Mer- 
 rington's favourite category of 
 nice, and would have seriously 
 disturbed that lady's opinion of 
 her new governess, which was 
 now very high indeed. 
 
 It was an undeniable fact that 
 the children two girls, aged 
 respectively ten and eight, and 
 the boy who came between them 
 had hitherto given a good deal 
 of trouble to their governesses, 
 and the only moot point was 
 whether this trouble was due
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 33 
 
 to the incapacity of the teachers 
 or the intractability of the pupils. 
 Mrs. Merrington's decision may 
 be easily divined. She, indeed, 
 herself found the children diffi- 
 cult to manage, and was gene- 
 rally flushed and exhausted by 
 an hour of their company, but 
 she consoled herself by describing 
 what other people called disobe- 
 dience as spirit, and firmly 
 believing that it was nothing 
 worse. Still this view of the 
 case did not affect certain trou- 
 blesome results. These, how- 
 ever, ceased with Mademoiselle 
 Ixe's accession. Mrs. Merring- 
 ton was no longer assailed by 
 that odious and too familiar 
 prelude 
 
 " I am sorry to trouble you, 
 Mrs. Merrington, but really the 
 children " 
 
 Complaints, indeed, she re- 
 ceived by the bushel, and this 
 time from the children. Their 
 new governess was, they repeat- 
 edly declared, a monster of 
 cruelty, who starved and ill-
 
 34 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 treated them, and made their 
 life a misery to them ,- but the 
 force of these representations, 
 even on Mrs. Merrington's tender 
 heart, was diminished by the 
 sight of the victims sporting 
 joyously with their tyrant in the 
 schoolroom-gallery or the shrub- 
 bery-walks, or clinging fondly to 
 her arm as she paced up and 
 down, telling one of her engros- 
 sing and interminable stones. 
 It is true that in school-time 
 their relations were not so 
 pleasant. Then, on the con- 
 trary, it was war to the knife, 
 and many a weary battle was 
 fought, in which Mademoiselle 
 Ixe triumphed gloriously in 
 virtue of the tremendous power 
 of inertia. For when the child- 
 ren were in wild rebellion around 
 her, shrieking and gesticulating 
 and tossing books and slates de- 
 fiantly about, Mademoiselle Ixe 
 neither stormed like the Fraulein, 
 lectured like Miss Olivier, or wept 
 like Miss West, but sat quietly 
 at her desk, observing their
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 35 
 
 gambols with a look of good- 
 humoured attention, and care- 
 fully noting with a bad mark 
 every fresh act of insubordination. 
 It was not that she controlled 
 her impatience ; she appeared to 
 have none to control. 
 
 " They agitate my nerves ! " 
 she exclaimed almost scornfully 
 one day, in answer to some words 
 of condolence from Evelyn. 
 " Poor little cats ! If my nerves 
 were so easily irritated, I should 
 have been dead long ago. Freddy, 
 my cherished one, behold seven 
 bad marks against your name ! " 
 
 This indulgent frame of mind 
 did not prevent her exacting the 
 uttermost farthing of the penalty 
 when the time of reckoning came, 
 which it did when the children 
 were worn out with their exer- 
 tions, and Mademoiselle Ixe was 
 fresh and unwearied as at the 
 beginning of the fray. Then 
 that dreary score of marks had 
 to be worked out in punishments 
 of various kinds. Extra lessons 
 had to be learnt, play-hours were
 
 36 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 curtailed, fines were administered, 
 and sweets and puddings rigo- 
 rously denied. It was then that 
 they recounted their wrongs to 
 Mrs. Merrington. They forgot 
 them altogether in the recreation 
 hours, when Mademoiselle Ixe 
 worked with them in their gar- 
 dens, played with them at their 
 games, and shared in all their 
 amusements with as much zeal 
 as a child, and a far less incon- 
 venient affection for her own 
 way than a child of their type 
 would certainly have displayed. 
 
 " Do these games amuse you ? " 
 said Evelyn once to Mademoiselle 
 Ixe, as the latter paused breath- 
 less beside her during a lively 
 game of hide-and-seek in the 
 shrubbery. 
 
 "Amuse me! I should think 
 not. It is not for amusement I 
 play. It is to gain an influence 
 over these funny little hearts. 
 After all, they fatigue me less 
 than the diversions of older 
 people. These only tire my 
 muscles. The others weary me,
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 37 
 
 brain, heart, and soul. What 
 would you ? To succeed in this 
 world one must adapt oneself, 
 one must efface one's individu- 
 ality on every side." 
 
 " Do you efface yourself with 
 me, Mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " Less," said Mademoiselle 
 Ixe, laying her ringer tenderly 
 on the girl's soft round cheek 
 and looking into her eyes with 
 the smile that sometimes bright- 
 ened and even beautified the dark 
 foreign face, " character like fate 
 is capricious. In one corner of 
 your fresh little heart there is 
 something which responds to my 
 withered one. I am compelled 
 to open it to you. Adieu. I 
 resume my role of baby." 
 
 This declaration seemed to 
 throw some light on the protean 
 character of Mademoiselle Ixe's 
 moods, which varied so it 
 seemed to Evelyn according to 
 the society in which she might 
 happen to be. The Mademoiselle 
 Ixe who listened respectfully to 
 Mrs. Merrington's reflections on
 
 38 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 things in general, or Mr. Merring- 
 ton's views upon cattle and 
 turnips was a very different 
 person from the Mademoiselle 
 Ixe who unbent herself with 
 Evelyn. The girl's growing 
 admiration was at times dis- 
 turbed by this flexibility of 
 character which appeared almost 
 to verge on insincerity. And yet 
 on reflection she could not accuse 
 Mademoiselle Ixe of having under 
 any circumstances denied herself 
 or her convictions. She avoided 
 this, apparently, by a somewhat 
 oracular manner of delivering her 
 opinions. Evelyn was very 
 anxious to take part in private 
 theatricals. 
 
 " I should so like to try and 
 act," she said one day in the 
 drawing-room. " I wish Mrs. 
 Fox would give some theatricals 
 as she promised she would, and 
 let me take part. I think acting 
 must be delightful." 
 
 " It is a very important part of 
 a good education," said Made- 
 moiselle Ixe.
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 39 
 
 " I must say I am old-fashioned 
 enough not to approve of young 
 ladies acting," observed Mrs. 
 Merrington. 
 
 " I was not talking of acting 
 on the stage, Madame." 
 
 This reply perfectly satisfied 
 Mrs. Merrington. " I thought 
 you wouldn't," she said, com- 
 placently. "In my young days 
 such a thing was never heard of, 
 and I cannot think it nice at all. 
 And as to ladies making speeches 
 in public, as they do now, I think 
 it most improper. There is Miss 
 Smith, an archdeacon's daughter. 
 At the last meeting of the Girls' 
 Friendly Society she stood up on 
 a platform, a regular platform 
 with steps on each side, and 
 lectured away to us all. She 
 said it was not a speech, because 
 she read it from a paper, but it 
 seems to me much the same thing 
 in the end." 
 
 " Quite the same, Madame." 
 
 "And there were gentlemen 
 present, too clergymen, of course 
 but it is just as bad. If ladies
 
 40 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 can do such things at religious 
 meetings, they can do it any- 
 where, I suppose. Really they 
 might as well go into Parliament 
 at once." 
 
 " Quite as well, Madame." 
 
 " Ladies are too fond of med- 
 dling in everything now-a-days, 
 and it is a very great mistake. 
 A woman ought to keep to her 
 own sphere." 
 
 " I quite agree with you, 
 Madame." 
 
 " I thought you would. Now 
 our last governess was quite the 
 contrary. She used to try and 
 persuade me that ladies had as 
 much to do with politics as 
 gentlemen." 
 
 " She must have been a very 
 foolish woman, Madame." 
 
 "Well, so I thought, though 
 she was very highly educated, 
 indeed almost too much so ; I 
 think she had quite muddled her 
 brains with logic and mathe- 
 matics. Certainly she talked 
 very well quite like a gentle- 
 man and had wonderful reasons
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 41 
 
 for everything. She used to say 
 that women of property ought to 
 have votes, and she used almost 
 to persuade Mr. Merrington to 
 take her side ; but she could not 
 convince me with all her argu- 
 ments." 
 
 " No, Madame, I am sure no 
 arguments would convince you." 
 
 The last observation, which 
 Mrs. Merrington accepted as a 
 compliment, struck Evelyn as 
 exactly the reverse, and led her 
 to review the whole dialogue ; 
 but if a cloud of doubt or dis- 
 approval gathered in her mind, 
 it was dispelled directly she and 
 her governess were left together 
 by the magnetic charm of Made- 
 moiselle Ixe's personality, in 
 which sweetness, irony, and sad- 
 ness were blended into the most 
 bewitching whole. 
 
 " If I were a man I should fall 
 in love with you," said Evelyn, 
 thoughtfully, one day. 
 
 " Heaven be praised that you 
 are not, then. Such a sentiment 
 would be highly inconvenient for
 
 42 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 me, and also for poor Mr. Leth- 
 bridge." 
 
 Mr. Lethbridge, oddly enough, 
 did not reciprocate this kindly 
 feeling. From the first Made- 
 moiselle Ixe had inspired him 
 with a vague sensation of dis- 
 trust and suspicion, for which 
 he was unable to account, having, 
 as he confessed, no graver charges 
 to urge against her than the enor- 
 mous size of her feet and 
 hands. 
 
 " How could we expect him to 
 like any one who is not English ? " 
 was Evelyn's sarcastic com- 
 ment. 
 
 Parry looked deprecatingly at 
 her, but did not attempt to defend 
 himself. 
 
 " What is she ? French ? " he 
 inquired, presently. 
 
 " No, she isn't French," 
 answered Evelyn. " I think she 
 must be German." 
 
 " No, I'll be sworn that she 
 is not German," said Mr. Mer- 
 rington, whose mind had been 
 poisoned against that nation by
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 43 
 
 his experience of the Fraulein; 
 " She is too clean for that." 
 
 " But how odd it is you don't 
 know ! " said Parry. " She's been 
 more than a week in the house, 
 hasn't she ? Haven't you asked 
 her?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, I have asked her," 
 said Mrs. Merrington. 
 
 " Have you, mama ? " cried 
 Evelyn. "What did she say? " 
 
 " Well, I don't quite remember 
 all ; it was a very long story, poor 
 thing. I can see she has had a 
 great deal of trouble in her life, 
 and her family, I am afraid, have 
 not behaved to her as they ought. 
 She does not care to speak about 
 it much, just as your aunt said, 
 you know, and I am sure it is 
 very natural." 
 
 " But did you not discover to 
 what country this ill -behaved 
 family belonged ? " asked Mr. 
 Merrington. 
 
 " She did tell me, at least she 
 told me her mother was a native 
 
 of ; I forget the name of 
 
 the place, but it is a very out-
 
 44 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 of-the-way town in Italy or the 
 south of France, I think. I 
 fancy her father and her mother 
 were different I mean belonged 
 to different countries." 
 
 " Well, I must say you do not 
 seem to have extracted much 
 information," observed Mr. Mer- 
 rington. 
 
 " I daresay she would have 
 told me more if I had asked 
 her," said Mrs. Merrington, 
 somewhat piqued; " I am sure 
 I don't care whether she is 
 French or Italian, or what she 
 is. She teaches the children 
 very well, and she seems a per- 
 fect lady. I don't know what 
 else one can want." 
 
 Mrs. Barnes, however, wanted 
 a great deal more. She wanted 
 to know once for all to which 
 church or sect Mademoiselle Ixe 
 belonged. 
 
 " I believe she is an Italian 
 Protestant," Mrs. Merrington 
 had replied. 
 
 " You believe, my dear Mrs. 
 Merrington. Is it possible you
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 45 
 
 do not know ? Do you mean to 
 say she makes a secret of her 
 religion? " 
 
 Mrs. Merrington hastily repu- 
 diated this suggestion. She had 
 approached the subject as deli- 
 cately as possible with Made- 
 moiselle, who had been perfectly 
 open and communicative, but 
 her religious confidences did not 
 seem to have left a more definite 
 impression on Mrs. Merrington's 
 memory than the account of her 
 nationality. Mrs. Barnes looked 
 very grave. 
 
 " I should like Mr. Barnes to 
 see her. I think he ought to 
 ask her a few questions. When 
 can you come down and have 
 tea with us, Mrs. Merrington, 
 you and Evelyn and Mademoi- 
 selle Ixe ? " 
 
 An invitation so worded is not 
 easily declined, and Mrs. Mer- 
 rington felt obliged to accept 
 this for the following Tuesday. 
 
 So on the afternoon of that 
 day Evelyn was sent to summon 
 Mademoiselle Ixe.
 
 46 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 She found the new governess 
 in the school-room, sitting on 
 the floor, and cautiously adding 
 the last storey to a tall and 
 tremulous structure of wooden 
 bricks, whilst beside her a little, 
 wan-faced child watched the 
 progress of the building with 
 solemn intentness. Winifred, 
 who was generally crying when 
 with her nurse, and fretting when 
 with her mother, was compara- 
 tively placid with Mademoiselle 
 Ixe. A curious friendship united 
 these two from the very first. 
 
 " Poor little one ! she is un- 
 happy," Mademoiselle Ixe had 
 once said in reply to some one 
 who expressed surprise at her 
 affection for this sickly, spoilt, 
 and most unwinning child. But 
 the secret of Winifred's attach- 
 ment for Mademoiselle Ixe re- 
 mained untold. 
 
 Evelyn delivered Mrs. Mer- 
 rington's message in a somewhat 
 displeased tone, and added 
 
 " I hate going to Mrs. Barnes'. 
 If she is alone I get tired of
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 47 
 
 hearing her scrapy voice. If 
 there are other visitors it is not 
 much livelier, for they seem half 
 afraid to speak or to laugh." 
 
 " Ah ! well, it does not 
 matter," said Mademoiselle Ixe, 
 philosophically. " As well be 
 bored in Mrs. Barnes' drawing- 
 room as anywhere else." 
 
 " But I don't want to be bored 
 anywhere." 
 
 " Such is youth ! Do you 
 know what a French writer has 
 said at forty one thanks heaven 
 when one is only moderately un- 
 happy. Winifred, my little one, 
 come into Mademoiselle's room 
 and help her to dress." 
 
 They found Mrs. Barnes' 
 drawing-room almost crowded. 
 Chance, not Mrs. Barnes, was 
 responsible for this. She was 
 especially anxious to have had 
 the Merrington party all to her- 
 self, and accordingly visitors 
 arrived from every quarter. Mr. 
 Harold, of Stacey Court, on his 
 way home from hunting ; Lady 
 Duncombe and her daughter;
 
 48 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 Mrs. Mason, wife of the curate 
 at Tidbury ; Mr. Golding, the 
 new clergyman from Barton, of 
 whom little was yet known, save 
 that he preached in a black 
 gown. Mrs. Barnes, however, 
 was not to be frustrated in her 
 good intentions. She found a 
 place close beside her own for 
 Mrs. Merrington, and established 
 Mademoiselle Ixe and Evelyn 
 in the opposite side of the room. 
 Then, when the whole party had 
 been provided with tea and cake, 
 and Mademoiselle Ixe might be 
 supposed to be occupied with the 
 conversation of those around her, 
 Mrs. Barnes, addressing Mrs. 
 Merrington, began 
 
 " I had a letter this morning 
 from my great friend, Miss West. 
 She was in Florence two or three 
 years ago, and when there, she 
 heard a great deal about your 
 present governess. She was 
 then giving lessons in a Mr. and 
 Mrs. Payne's family. Mr. and 
 Mrs. Payne are very intimate 
 friends of Miss West's, and very
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 49 
 
 staunch Church - people. It 
 seems Mademoiselle Ixe had 
 been giving their children lessons 
 in French and music for months, 
 but at the end of that time, just 
 when Miss West arrived, in fact, 
 they felt themselves obliged, very 
 reluctantly, to withdraw them 
 from her charge." 
 
 " Dear me ! " 
 
 "As a governess, they had 
 nothing to say against her. She 
 taught very well indeed, and the 
 children were very much attached 
 to her, but it appears that she 
 had no religious principles." 
 
 " No religious principles ! " 
 
 " None. I told you that foreign 
 Protestants rarely had ; but this 
 is one of the worst cases I ever 
 heard of. She went to the 
 English Church with the Paynes, 
 but they learnt by accident that 
 a few months before, when she 
 happened to be teaching Roman 
 Catholic pupils, she always ac- 
 companied them to mass. Before 
 that she attended the Italian 
 Protestant Temple with some 
 4
 
 $0 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 Protestant ladies. In fact, she 
 went wherever her pupils hap- 
 pened to go at the time she was 
 with them, and on one occasion," 
 said Mrs. Barnes, sinking her 
 voice to a tragic depth, " she 
 took part in a Unitarian prayer- 
 meeting ! " 
 
 " I am sure there must be 
 some mistake. My sister is so 
 very particular, and Mademoiselle 
 Ixe seems in every way such an 
 excellent person ; so kind to the 
 children, and so obliging and un- 
 selfish." 
 
 " But, my dear Mrs. Merring- 
 ton, what on earth has all that 
 got to do with religion ? " 
 
 As Mrs. Merrington paused, 
 struck dumb by this unanswer- 
 able objection, the door opened 
 and Mr. Barnes entered. His 
 arrival was very welcome to 
 the whole company, for at the 
 other end of the room they were 
 just a little dull. A heavy though 
 invisible cloud, which often 
 brooded over social gatherings 
 in this neighbourhood, had not
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 51 
 
 been dispelled by tea. The only 
 topics afforded by this dullest of 
 all seasons, such as the state of 
 the weather and the roads, and 
 the probable return of the Cosmo 
 Foxes had been introduced and 
 exhausted. Mr. Harold had 
 attempted to bring forward his 
 favourite subject, the misdoings 
 of the Liberal Government, but 
 the ladies were too feminine to 
 take much interest in politics, 
 and he was in no way supported 
 by Mr. Golding, who, with an 
 unmistakable frown, was glan- 
 cing over a Church paper he had 
 found on the table near him. 
 Things had come to such a pass 
 that Lady Duncombe and Mrs. 
 Mason were now seriously deba- 
 ting whether the vicar's wife at 
 Tidbury, by a more judicious 
 arrangement of her house and 
 her household, might not find 
 room for another servant. 
 
 " I hope you are amused," 
 Evelyn had ironically observed, 
 in an undertone to Mademoiselle 
 Ixe.
 
 52 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 " Perfectly, I thank you." 
 
 " It is gay, is it not ? " 
 
 " Ah ! for example, no. You 
 English when you amuse your- 
 selves are never gay. You have a 
 way peculiar to yourselves of 
 doing everything. It is very in- 
 teresting." 
 
 Mr. Barnes' entrance and the 
 greetings which followed broke 
 up the stiff circle into which the 
 guests had formed, and revived 
 the drooping spirit of conversation. 
 
 " You are late, my dear," said 
 Mrs. Barnes, carrying a cup of 
 tea across to him where he stood 
 near Mr. Golding and Made- 
 moiselle Ixe. 
 
 " Yes, I just stopped to look 
 in at the church, where the 
 school-children are practising 
 with Mr. Morris. He is teaching 
 them that new Benedictus. Then 
 turning towards Mr. Golding, he 
 added : " I do not know what 
 sort of a choir you have found at 
 Barton." 
 
 " I know nothing about it," 
 said Mr. Golding, curtly.
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 53 
 
 Mr. Barnes opened his eyes, 
 and Mrs. Barnes glanced severely 
 at the speaker. At another time 
 she would not have allowed such 
 an avowal to pass unrebuked, 
 but Mademoiselle Ixe at this 
 moment absorbed all her atten- 
 tion. 
 
 The company became quite 
 lively, as every one had something 
 to say about his or her choir, and 
 Mrs. Barnes decided that the 
 moment was favourable, under 
 cover of this, to begin the inves- 
 tigation on which her heart was 
 set. She gave a premonitory 
 cough for her husband's benefit, 
 and then observed to Made- 
 moiselle Ixe in that forced and 
 unnatural manner in which people 
 are apt to speak when they wish 
 their remarks to sound as un- 
 premeditated and spontaneous as 
 possible : 
 
 " I hear you are a great 
 musician, Mademoiselle. Have 
 you had much experience in 
 choir-training church choirs I 
 mean? "
 
 5 4 M ADEMOI SELLE IXE. 
 
 " Alas ! no, Madame." 
 
 " I believe some of our choirs 
 abroad are very good just now ; 
 in the Anglican Churches, that 
 is. I don't know if you belong 
 to the Anglican Church." 
 
 The last sentence, though 
 worded as an assertion, was dis- 
 tinctly delivered as a question, 
 and Mrs. Barnes paused for a 
 reply. 
 
 Mademoiselle Ixe hesitated, 
 only for an instant, during which 
 brief space her glance flashed 
 from face to face of the trio : 
 Mr. Barnes, still standing, still 
 sipping his tea on one side ; Mrs. 
 Barnes, erect and expectant before 
 her; Mr. Golding, who had tossed 
 the paper aside with an angry 
 " Pshaw," and appeared now 
 attentive to this dialogue. 
 
 Then she looked downward 
 and said, pensively : " Unfor- 
 tunately, no, Madame. I have 
 often desired to join your charm- 
 ing Church ; but there are so 
 many difficulties about it." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Mr. Barnes,
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 55 
 
 laying down his cup. " To what 
 difficulties in particular do you 
 allude ? " 
 
 "Well, first," said Made- 
 moiselle Ixe, touching the fore- 
 finger of her left hand, as if about 
 to begin a somewhat lengthy 
 enumeration, "there is the apos- 
 tolic succession. Never have I 
 been able to understand whether 
 you possess it or not." 
 
 " Is that all ? " cried Mr. 
 Golding. 
 
 " It is certainly not an article 
 of faith," said Mr. Barnes, in 
 reply to the tone of Mr. Golding's 
 comment. " Still, no doubt the 
 question is a very important one, 
 for our right, as clergy of the 
 Catholic Church of England, to 
 exercise our priestly functions 
 rests entirely on the assumption 
 that we do possess the apostolic 
 succession." 
 
 " Exactly what Mr. Jones used 
 to tell me," said Mademoiselle 
 Ixe, clasping her hands. 
 
 " Then I must venture to differ 
 from Mr. Jones and Mr. Barnes
 
 56 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 too," said Mr. Golding, with the 
 aspect of a man preparing him- 
 self for battle. " Our right to 
 exercise what Mr. Barnes calls 
 our priestly functions, by which 
 I understand him to mean our 
 right to conduct the public ser- 
 vices of the National Church, 
 rests on no such assumption, and 
 it is well it does not, for as a 
 matter of fact, historical fact, we 
 do not possess the apostolic suc- 
 cession." 
 
 " And that is what Mr. Brown 
 used to assure me," cried Made- 
 moiselle Ixe, despairingly. " You 
 see, my dear Madame, how em- 
 barrassing all this is for a 
 foreigner." 
 
 " It is not at all embarrassing," 
 cried Mrs. Barnes, looking angrily 
 at Mr. Golding. " If you will 
 listen to Mr. Barnes he will soon 
 make it plain to you or to any 
 one else that we do possess the 
 apostolic succession." 
 
 " I defy him to do that," cried 
 Mr. Golding. Mr. Barnes would 
 willingly have adjourned the de-
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 57 
 
 bate to a more convenient season, 
 if not for ever ; but neither Mrs. 
 Barnes nor Mr. Golding would 
 consent to this, and thanks to 
 these ardent and uncompromising 
 spirits, a prolonged and animated 
 debate ensued, in which Made- 
 moiselle Ixe and her difficulties 
 were very soon forgotten. It 
 raged with undiminished ardour 
 when Mrs. Merrington and her 
 companions were obliged to take 
 their leave. Mrs. Merrington 
 drove homewards in the carriage, 
 leaving the "other two, at their 
 own especial desire, to follow at 
 their leisure and on foot. 
 
 It was very quiet, and sweet, 
 and cool outside the vicarage. 
 They stood for a few seconds by 
 the gate, looking back over the 
 churchyard and the gardens with 
 a pleasant sense of rest after 
 storm. It was the evening of a 
 rainy day. The thick unbroken 
 cloud that covered all the sky 
 was lifted towards the west above 
 a deep of pure pale yellow, whilst 
 the glow of it streaming faintly
 
 58 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 over the creeping river, and the 
 sodden meadows folded as in a 
 mystic haze, the massed darkness 
 of the church and the " star- 
 proof" blackness of the yews be- 
 side it. Lights sparkled brightly 
 in the chancel windows. The 
 children were still singing, and 
 through the open church door 
 their fresh young voices, upborne 
 by the roll of the organ, rang 
 forth triumphantly. Even the 
 words they sang were audible : 
 " To give light to them that sit 
 in darkness and in the shadow of 
 death, and to guide our feet into 
 the way of peace." 
 
 Mademoiselle Ixe smiled, as 
 she listened and uttered a sound 
 which Evelyn thought was like, 
 and yet strangely unlike a laugh. 
 She looked quickly and curiously 
 at the foreign profile standing 
 out in almost discordant relief 
 against the peaceful English back- 
 ground. 
 
 " Do these words amuse you ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 "Amuse me? Oh! no. Still,
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 59 
 
 sung like that, in a land like this, 
 they make one smile, as one 
 
 smiles over My lovely child, 
 
 can you imagine what the 
 shadow of death is ? " 
 
 " No," answered Evelyn, with 
 a slight shudder. " Can you ? " 
 
 " I ? I am one of the people 
 who live continually in it. Come, 
 it is late, we must go." 
 
 As they passed the little village 
 post-office, the post-mistress's 
 daughter, with a letter in her 
 hand, hurried out to catch them. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Miss, for 
 troubling you, I am sure," she 
 said to Evelyn. " But do you 
 think as this could be for any 
 one at the mansion ? Tis such 
 a strange name. We don't seem 
 hardly to know how to read it." 
 
 Evelyn took the letter from 
 her. Its thin envelope was 
 covered with foreign and English 
 postmarks, and numerous ad- 
 dresses, all erased but the last. 
 
 " It is not for any one I know," 
 said Evelyn, after a glance at the 
 very singular name, which was
 
 60 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 all that was left of the original 
 direction. 
 
 " Excuse me," said Made- 
 moiselle Ixe, " it is for me." 
 
 She put out her hand, and 
 Evelyn, of course, instantly re- 
 signed to her the letter. Made- 
 moiselle Ixe put it in her pocket, 
 the post-mistress's daughter re- 
 tired satisfied and .relieved, and 
 the two ladies walked silently 
 home. If Mademoiselle Ixe's 
 thoughts were busy over the in- 
 side of the letter, Evelyn's were 
 no less occupied with the outside, 
 for she had seen enough of it to 
 be positively certain that the 
 mysterious name upon the enve- 
 lope, whatever it might be, bore 
 not the faintest resemblance to 
 Ixe.
 
 III. 
 
 >T was well that Mrs. 
 Merrington was spared 
 the sight of the letter, 
 for she returned home, 
 sufficiently disturbed as 
 it was by Mrs. Barnes' 
 suggestions. Mr. Merrington, to 
 whom after dinner she confided 
 these anxieties, made light of 
 them, after his usual easy and 
 somewhat unorthodox fashion. 
 
 " Oh, pooh ! If she does her 
 work well what does it matter 
 what her views are," was his 
 conclusion, "especially as she 
 doesn't trouble us with them ? 
 Eve, you are a nice young lady, 
 upon my word. You never told 
 that unfortunate Parry that you 
 were going out to tea, and he
 
 62 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 has been kicking his heels half 
 the afternoon waiting to see 
 you." 
 
 " Why, what could he have to 
 say to me ? " 
 
 " Amongst other things, that 
 the Cosmo Foxes are coming 
 home to-morrow." 
 
 " I am very glad," said Evelyn, 
 "Mademoiselle Ixe is very anxious 
 to see Mrs. Fox." 
 
 Mrs. Merrington determined to 
 appeal to her sister, and wrote 
 to her next day to ask for further 
 particulars and assurances con- 
 cerning Mademoiselle Ixe and 
 her history. The answer which 
 arrived by return of post was 
 slightly indignant in tone. 
 
 " I am not the least surprised," 
 wrote Lady Carline, " to hear 
 that your Puseyite vicar and his 
 wife are not satisfied with that 
 good Bible Christian, Mademoi- 
 selle Ixe. I earnestly pray that 
 she may be enabled to counteract 
 the effect of Mr. Barnes' per- 
 nicious teaching on the minds of 
 the dear children. As to Mrs.
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 63 
 
 Barnes' insinuations, no doubt 
 Mademoiselle Ixe, poor thing, 
 after renouncing her popish idols 
 (I wish Mr. and Mrs. Barnes 
 could say so much for them- 
 selves), was for some time rather 
 unsettled as to which was the 
 true faith, but I am happy to say 
 she has for some time found rest 
 in the Italian Protestant Church, 
 a sounder one than our own in 
 many ways. I should think she 
 must be amazed at some of Mr. 
 Barnes' antics in church, if he 
 goes on in the way he did when 
 I was with you. However, if 
 you are not satisfied, pray let me 
 know at once. I can easily get 
 her another situation. Lady 
 Castlemore would be thankful to 
 have her." 
 
 After reading this, Mrs. Mer- 
 rington felt not only comforted, 
 but bound to offer some sort of 
 apology to her sister. She was 
 busy over the composition of this 
 when the sound of a distant horn 
 reached her ears, and Evelyn 
 came hurriedly into the drawing-
 
 64 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 room to announce that the Cosmo 
 Foxes' drag was driving up to the 
 house. A few minutes after this 
 Mr. and Mrs. Cosmo Fox, with 
 Parry, entered the house, and a 
 high-pitched female voice re- 
 sounded through the hall. 
 
 " Well, my dear Mrs. Mer- 
 rington, here we are, you see. 
 We haven't lost any time in 
 coming over, have we ? Well, 
 how are you? You all look 
 blooming. After all, I believe 
 country air is the best. Why, 
 Evelyn, I declare you've grown. 
 Yes, you have. And how are 
 the chicks ? All very well ? I 
 hear you have got a dragon of a 
 governess who keeps them all in 
 fine order. I am sorry for that ; 
 they won't be half so nice. I 
 hate anything kept in order 
 except husbands. Yes, Mrs. 
 Merrington, husbands should al- 
 ways be kept in order. I do my 
 best with Cosmo, but he is quite 
 incorrigible. How jolly this dear 
 old drawing-room looks, and how 
 nice everything feels after Lon-
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 65 
 
 don ! Well, now, what has been 
 going on here ? I hear one of 
 the Miss Harolds is actually 
 engaged. What a blessing for 
 her mother and the others! Mrs. 
 Masters has been up telling me 
 all the gossip. It is part of her 
 business as a clergyman's wife, 
 you know, to collect all that. 
 Don't you think so ? I hear 
 they've got a terrible clergyman 
 at Barton, who gives them ser- 
 mons half an hour long. Miss 
 Duncombe isn't engaged, I'm 
 sure, from her face. She looks 
 very desponding. We met her 
 and Lady Duncombe on our way 
 here. What do you think I did? 
 I took the reins from Parry, and 
 borrowed his cigar till we passed 
 them. Oh, you should have seen 
 Lady Duncombe's face. Cosmo 
 didn't half like it. Afraid I 
 should upset the drag ? Non- 
 sense ! How nervous you are 
 getting ! " 
 
 During the course of this 
 speech the whole party had es- 
 tablished themselves in the
 
 66 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 drawing-room, whilst greetings 
 and inquiries had been generally 
 exchanged. It was impossible 
 without suspending the ordinary 
 business of life to pay unremitting 
 attention to Mrs. Fox's remarks. 
 Fortunately she did not expect 
 it, being too absorbed in the 
 pleasure of talking to be very 
 exacting as to the quality and 
 quantity of her listeners. She 
 usually addressed herself to the 
 company generally, and in that 
 there were sure to be two or 
 three who willingly listened, or 
 appeared to listen, while watch- 
 ing a creature so lovely. To-day 
 she was provided with two faith- 
 ful admirers in Mrs. Merrington 
 and Evelyn, who had taken their 
 places on either side of her. Mr. 
 Cosmo Fox conversed with Mrs. 
 Merrington in the low soft voice 
 which was usually drowned by 
 his wife's vociferous chatter. 
 
 " I hope Cosmo and you are 
 not going to run away again 
 directly," said Mrs. Merrington, 
 cordially, when Mrs. Fox paused,
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 67 
 
 as she was sometimes compelled 
 to, for breath. 
 
 " Oh, no. We shall be here 
 till the week after Easter, at 
 least. I shouldn't have come 
 down so soon, only Cosmo took 
 upon himself to ask some people 
 down without consulting me. 
 Yes, he says he asked me if it 
 would suit me to have them on 
 the fifteenth, and I said yes. 
 Well, so I did, but then I hadn't 
 an idea when the fifteenth was. 
 I never know anything about 
 dates. I don't want to, or about 
 hours either. Yes, please. Cream, 
 milk, sugar, everything you can 
 give me. Muffins ? 1 should 
 think so. I adore muffins. 
 Thanks, thanks ! Who are 
 coming to us ? Well, let me 
 see. The Austyns first. These 
 are the people Cosmo asked. 
 He is rather sweet on Mrs. 
 Austyn, between ourselves. Ha! 
 ha ! Then Nelly and Katy 
 Woodward. I don't think you 
 know them. Such jolly girls ; 
 not pretty, but up to everything.
 
 68 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 Then my cousin, Captain Leslie; 
 you know him ? Handsome, 
 isn't he ? You mustn't fall in 
 love with him, Evelyn, or Parry 
 will never forgive me. M. 
 de Lane and Sir George and 
 Lady Rigby. You remember 
 Lady Rigby ? Immense ! and 
 the colour of a peony. I think 
 that is all, isn't it, Cosmo ? Oh, 
 mercy! yes. I forgot the Count : 
 the most important of them all. 
 His name ? Oh, don't ask me 
 his name. I can't either spell 
 or pronounce it. He is a Russian 
 
 and an old friend of Cosmo's 
 
 Well, you knew him years ago, 
 didn't you, when you were abroad ? 
 He is very much in love with 
 me. Yes, he is, Cosmo ; very 
 mashed indeed, and so am I. 
 Oh, he is such a darling, and so 
 hideous. Frightful ! Do you 
 know, the first time I saw him 
 (it was only last week, he has 
 just been in England about a 
 month) I thought he was the 
 missing link. It was at a dance 
 at Lady Dunmere's. You know
 
 MADEMOISELLE IX E. 69 
 
 she is a Scotchwoman, and never 
 sees anything like a joke, so I 
 said, ' Why, Lady Dunmere, it 
 is a gorilla, isn't it ? ' and she 
 said, quite gravely, ' Oh, no, 
 dear; he is a Russian Count.' 
 But he dances divinely, divinely! 
 I wanted him to come down to 
 us at once, for I never was so 
 taken by any one, but he couldn't 
 come till Thursday next. Is it 
 not tiresome ? He has gone off 
 with these stupid Dunmeres to 
 their place in Scotland. I told 
 him he would only catch his 
 death of cold, and get caught by 
 that gigantic Miss Dunmere. 
 But perhaps he may come to us 
 sooner after all, for it seems he 
 is very restless, and flies about 
 from place to place, just as the 
 fancy moves him just what I 
 should like to do (how I wish I 
 had married him !), and some- 
 times he goes off quite suddenly 
 in the middle of a visit. Cos- 
 mo thinks it's because Who 
 
 on earth is that ? " 
 
 It was Mademoiselle Ixe stand-
 
 70 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 ing in the doorway. Her eyes 
 had turned, naturally enough, in 
 the direction of the beautiful 
 speaker, but she had come in 
 with a large bunch of daffodils 
 gathered in the woods for Mrs. 
 Merrington. Finding that the 
 family were not alone, as she had 
 supposed, she hesitated diffidently 
 to enter. 
 
 " Come in, come in, Mademoi- 
 selle," cried Mrs. Merrington. 
 " You are just in time for tea. 
 You must have a cup. What 
 lovely daffodils ! " 
 
 Parry rose to find her a seat. 
 Evelyn hastened to pour her out 
 a cup of tea, and Mrs. Merring- 
 ton introduced her to the Cosmo 
 Foxes. Mademoiselle Ixe took 
 the place offered to her next Mrs. 
 Merrington, and described, in 
 answer to that lady's inquiries, 
 where the daffodils had been 
 found. 
 
 Meanwhile Mrs. Fox stared at 
 Mademoiselle Ixe with uncon- 
 cealed astonishment. 
 
 " Who on earth is she ? " she
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 71 
 
 said to Mr. Merrington. "The 
 new governess ? What an extra- 
 ordinary-looking person ! Where 
 on earth did you pick her up ? 
 Chinese, I should think, from her 
 eyebrows. Well, she is ugly ! " 
 
 Mrs. Cosmo Fox, like a good 
 many other people, had a habit 
 of assuming that nothing she 
 said could be overheard unless 
 she intended it to be so. Mr. 
 Merrington, who did not share 
 this illusion, began to feel rather 
 uncomfortable, and rose to his 
 feet. 
 
 " Cosmo," he said, " I want to 
 show you the stables. Since you 
 were here last I have had them 
 ventilated on a new plan. It 
 works very well. Are you 
 coming, Parry ? " 
 
 " With the departure of the 
 men, the exuberance of Mrs. 
 Fox's spirits seemed somewhat 
 to subside. She leant languidly 
 back in her deep chair, and 
 looked round as if in search of 
 amusement. Evelyn, observing 
 this, proposed that Mademoiselle
 
 72 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 Ixe should play them something. 
 
 " I ought, perhaps, to be look- 
 ing for my pupils," said Made- 
 moiselle Ixe, consulting her 
 watch. 
 
 " I'll go and see after the 
 children," said Mrs. Merrington, 
 delighted to exchange the task of 
 entertaining Mrs. Cosmo Fox for 
 a much more congenial occupa- 
 tion. "You play some of your 
 pretty pieces to Mrs. Fox." 
 
 "Do you like music, Madame?" 
 asked Mademoiselle Ixe, pausing 
 on her way to the piano beside 
 Mrs. Fox, and affording as she 
 did so the most remarkable con- 
 trast ever presented by two 
 beings of the same sex, time, 
 and social community. 
 
 "Well, yes; if it is not too 
 classical," said Mrs. Fox, stifling 
 a yawn and stretching out her 
 hand to take an album from the 
 table. 
 
 " Now, what will she play ? " 
 thought Evelyn, watching the 
 foreign governess curiously. It 
 was something which she had
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 73 
 
 never played before at least, to 
 Evelyn a waltz with a long, 
 undulating measure, and that 
 undertone of sadness which ap- 
 pears inevitable even in the 
 dance music of this troubled age. 
 All this was carefully accentuated 
 by the player, but her dexterous 
 fingers, or something of which 
 they were but the well-trained 
 interpreters, infused a much 
 more potent charm into the 
 swaying melody. The spirit of 
 the dance was in this playing; the 
 essence of that poetry of motion 
 which lives in the rise and fall of 
 wind-tossed boughs and leaping 
 waves, as well as in the rhythmic 
 play of supple human beauty. 
 Evelyn it affected like a spell, 
 and even the much less sus- 
 ceptible Mrs. Fox was moved 
 and roused by it. 
 
 " Lovely ! Distracting ! One 
 must dance to it," she cried, 
 springing to her feet, and rocking 
 to the music with a grace as 
 perfect as her beauty. 
 
 " The hall is the place to 
 5
 
 74 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 dance in," said Mademoiselle Ixe, 
 without pausing or looking up. 
 "True," said Mrs. Fox, "Evelyn, 
 let us have a waltz there." 
 
 The hall was very wide and 
 high, rising to the roof of the 
 house, where it was lighted by 
 an enormous skylight. All the 
 chief rooms opened on to it, the 
 bedrooms being reached by the 
 open gallery that went round 
 three sides of the hall. The last 
 side was taken up by two flights 
 of the staircase which led to this 
 gallery, and an enormous piece 
 of tapestry, covering nearly all 
 the wall above the stairs. Soft 
 rich brown was the prevailing 
 hue in wainscoted walls and 
 balustrades, and in the polished 
 floor over which the feet of the 
 young dancers now glided so 
 nimbly. 
 
 " You play divinely," cried 
 Mrs. Fox, returning to the draw- 
 ing-room with quickened breath 
 and heightened colour; "but you 
 have thoroughly unsettled me, 
 and I know I never shall be
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 75 
 
 happy again till I have had a 
 really good dance. London ! 
 One never dances in London. 
 One is knocked about and one's 
 dress is torn ; there is no room 
 to dance. The country is the 
 place. Oh, how I wish we had 
 anything like your hall, and I 
 would give a dance to-morrow; 
 but that stupid castle is all cut 
 up into little rooms, and our big 
 hall has a stone floor. I wish to 
 goodness your people would give 
 a dance, Evelyn ! " 
 
 " Surely all that Mrs. Fox 
 desires is granted," said Made- 
 moiselle Ixe, still playing, but 
 playing pianissimo. 
 
 " What, in other people's 
 houses?" said Mrs. Fox, smiling. 
 
 " Everywhere," said Made- 
 moiselle Ixe, gravely. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " said Evelyn, 
 snatching at the idea presented. 
 " And I am sure if papa would 
 give a dance to please any one, it 
 would be for you. Oh, dear Mrs. 
 Fox ! do ask him. I have never 
 been at a real dance in my life,
 
 76 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 and I shall be eighteen next 
 month." 
 
 " You poor, ill - used little 
 thing ! Well, I don't mind if I 
 do. Where is Mr. Merrington?" 
 
 As if in answer to this ques- 
 tion, the sound of men's voices 
 was heard outside. 
 
 Mrs. Fox rushed to the window 
 and threw it open. 
 
 " Mr. Merrington," she cried, 
 leaning out and clasping her 
 hands with a pretty gesture of 
 entreaty, " I want you to do 
 something to please me. Promise 
 me you won't refuse." 
 
 " Who could ? " said Mr. 
 Merrington, gallantly. 
 
 " Well, now, remember you 
 have promised. I have witnesses. 
 I want you to give a dance." 
 
 " A dance ? " repeated Mr. 
 Merrington, evidently taken 
 aback. 
 
 " Quite a tiny one, you know. 
 I don't mean a regular ball. I 
 only want you to let me bring 
 over our party one evening, and 
 have a dance in your lovely hall.
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 77 
 
 Now you must not look like that. 
 You know you have promised." 
 
 Mr. Cosmo Fox, with his usual 
 sleepy deliberation, took his cigar 
 out of his mouth, and began 
 
 " I must say, Zephine " 
 
 " No, Cosmo, you need not 
 say anything at all. You have 
 nothing to do with this. Now, 
 Mr. Merrington, you don't object, 
 do you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! I don't object," 
 said Mr. Merrington, who had 
 bethought himself of an excellent 
 way out of the dilemma. " But 
 I am not the person to ask. I 
 am only the master of the house. 
 You must consult my wife, you 
 know." 
 
 "Thank you, thank you, thank 
 you," cried Mrs. Fox, kissing her 
 hands to him at each word, and 
 she disappeared from the window. 
 
 A few minutes later, Mrs. 
 Merrington came into the gallery 
 through the red swing door which 
 led from that part of the house 
 to a wing shared by the servants 
 and children. A cry of satis-
 
 78 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 faction from below instantly 
 greeted her appearance, and, as 
 she slowly descended the stairs, 
 Mrs. Cosmo Fox's piercing voice 
 was lifted in explanation of the 
 unusual aspect of the hall. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Merrington, 
 such fun ! What do you think ? 
 Your angel of a husband has 
 invited us and our party to come 
 over and dance one evening in 
 this splendid hall. Isn't it charm- 
 ing ? There never was such a 
 place for a ball-room. You see, 
 Mrs. Merrington, by just taking 
 the big chairs out and moving the 
 table up here like this, you get 
 more room than ever; and the 
 piano and the fiddles, with a 
 little squeeze, might get under 
 the staircase. A small cottage 
 piano, you know. Hawkins 
 generally sends his own. You'd 
 have his men, wouldn't you ? 
 They're not expensive. I hate 
 dancing to amateur playing, don't 
 you ? They always leave off 
 when they are tired. We shall 
 have three dancing men in our
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 79 
 
 party at least, and I'll tell you 
 what I'll do : I'll ask some of 
 the th over from Carchester. 
 You'll like that, Evelyn, for they 
 all dance splendidly. They 
 really do ; not like that stupid 
 th, who do nothing but lounge 
 and eat supper. We haven't 
 settled the day yet, have we? It 
 must be next week, because the 
 week after is Passion week, and 
 if you gave a dance then, Mr. 
 Barnes would excommunicate 
 you, or, rather, Mrs. Barnes 
 would. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Now, 
 all our people come on Saturday. 
 On Monday we have some old 
 friends to dine. What do you 
 say to Tuesday ? I think Tues- 
 day is the day. Do you agree, 
 Mrs. Merrington? " 
 
 Mrs. Merrington certainly did 
 not object in words, for of them 
 she was bereft by bewilderment 
 and surprise ; and Mrs. Cosmo 
 Fox, taking the most desirable 
 view of this silence, burst forth 
 again more eloquently than ever : 
 
 " Oh, thank you a thousand
 
 8o MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 times, Mrs. Merrington, thank 
 you awfully. We shall all make 
 our appearance on Tuesday next. 
 By the by, will you ask any one 
 else, for we are going on to the 
 Harolds. Shall we take them 
 an invitation ? It will save you 
 the bother of writing. The son 
 dances very decently, you know, 
 and they really must scrape some 
 men together to balance all these 
 heavy girls. Do you think the 
 Duncombes would come in Lent ? 
 I think it would be only kind to 
 give poor Miss Duncombe a 
 chance, and I should like to 
 have Lady Duncombe ; I always 
 enjoy flirting so much more 
 when I know she is looking on 
 and taking notes. But then, if 
 you ask her, you will have to ask 
 all the people near Barton ; and 
 they are such a hopelessly stupid 
 set. Well, whatever you do, 
 Evelyn, don't forget to engage 
 Hawkins' men in good time. 
 You know, a violin, a violoncello, 
 and a piano. I say ! won't it be 
 glorious ? "
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXF. 8 1 
 
 The drag was now heard 
 crashing over the gravel sweep 
 before the front door. The 
 servants came into the hall to 
 attend to the departing guests, 
 and at the same instant Mr. 
 Merrington, Mr. Fox and Parry 
 entered by a side door. 
 
 " It is half-past five and more, 
 Zephine," said her husband; "if 
 we are to be home before mid- 
 night, we ought to start." 
 
 " Mr. Merrington," cried Mrs. 
 Fox, "it is all settled. The 
 dance is to be on Tuesday next. 
 We've arranged it all, haven't 
 we, Mrs. Merrington ? We shall 
 put our furs and things in your 
 room, I think, Mr. Merrington, 
 and eat our supper in the dining- 
 room, and flirt in the drawing- 
 room. What is the matter with 
 the clasp of this cloak ? I can- 
 not fasten it." 
 
 " Allow me, Madame," said 
 Mademoiselle Ixe. 
 
 " What the devil is the mean- 
 ing of all this ? " said Mr. 
 Merrington aside to his wife.
 
 82 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 " You know best, my dear," 
 said that lady, coldly. 
 
 At the same time, Mademoi- 
 selle Ixe, readjusting the silver 
 clasp of Mrs. Fox's fur cloak 
 which had got bent in some \\a.y, 
 was saying : 
 
 " Did you say all your visitors 
 arrived on Saturday, Madame?" 
 
 " Yes, all. Have you got it 
 right ? Oh, thanks." 
 
 " Because," continued Made- 
 moiselle Ixe, arranging the cloak 
 over Mrs. Fox's shoulders as she 
 spoke, " I fancied you spoke of 
 one who did not arrive till 
 Thursday, was it ? " 
 
 Mrs. Fox stopped suddenly 
 with a start in the act of fasten- 
 ing her cloak. 
 
 " Gracious goodness ! " she 
 almost shrieked, " do you know 
 what I have done ? I have for- 
 gotten all about the Count. He 
 doesn't come till Thursday. He 
 won't be here for the ball." 
 
 " Good-bye, my dear Mrs. 
 Merrington," said Mr. Cosmo 
 Fox gently, as he pressed her
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 83 
 
 hand in a farewell clasp ; " how 
 your head must ache, and how 
 you will enjoy a little quiet 
 after all this hubbub ! My dear 
 Zephine, I will attend to what 
 you say when we get into the 
 carriage. Nothing will induce 
 me to trespass further on Mr. 
 and Mrs. Merrington's patience." 
 
 And, accordingly, he left the 
 house and climbed up to his 
 place on the drag. All this time 
 Mrs. Fox protested wildly and 
 continuously : 
 
 "The Count! the Count! 
 My dear Cosmo, you don't 
 understand. Oh, Parry, stop him ! 
 My dear Mrs. Merrington, what 
 are we to do ? The dance will 
 be nothing without the Count. 
 You don't know how he waltzes. 
 Put off the dance ? Oh, good- 
 ness ! no. Never put off any- 
 thing pleasant. He must come 
 earlier, that's all, 'whether the 
 Dunmeres like it or whether they 
 don't. I must write to him to- 
 night, and insist upon his coming 
 on Monday or Tuesday at the 
 latest."
 
 84 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 " You won't be in time for our 
 post," observed Parry, " if that 
 matters. The postman calls for 
 the bag at six." 
 
 " Parry," called Mr. Fox from 
 without, " do not wait for 
 Zephine. We will send the 
 carnage back for her." 
 
 " What a brute he is ! " cried 
 Mrs. Fox, clasping her hands. 
 " What is to be done ? It's two 
 days' post to Dunmere at least. 
 The letter will never reach him 
 in time, if I don't get it off 
 to-night." 
 
 " Why do you not write the 
 letter here, then, Madame ? " 
 said Mademoiselle Ixe. 
 
 The suggestion was accepted 
 with delight, and while Parry 
 was despatched to explain the 
 delay to Mr. Cosmo Fox, and if 
 possible soothe his impatience, 
 Mademoiselle Ixe and Evelyn 
 hurried off to find writing 
 materials. Mr. Merrington looked 
 on in moody silence ; Mrs. 
 Merrington's brain was in a 
 whirl. Their silence was not
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 85 
 
 very conspicuous, as Mrs. Fox 
 afforded them no opportunity of 
 speaking. 
 
 She wrote her letter, standing 
 at the hall-table, and talking 
 incessantly all the time. 
 
 "Now what shall I say to 
 him? There isn't time for any 
 ceremony. I shall simply say 
 if he doesn't come on Monday, 
 I shall never speak to him again. 
 Parry, you dear old thing, don't 
 let Cosmo drive off. He's capable 
 of anything. I say ! what a 
 scrawl! There! A blot! It's 
 all Cosmo's fault. Evelyn, if 
 you marry a husband with a 
 taste for punctuality, crush it at 
 once. How many r's are there 
 in hurried ? That's right. An 
 envelope, please. Oh heavens ! 
 how does one spell his name? 
 Parry, run and ask Cosmo how 
 the Count spells his name. 
 Evelyn, you will stamp this letter 
 for me. Are you sure that is 
 right, Parry ? What gibberish ! 
 Now, Dunmere Castle, Dunfeld. 
 What county is Dunfeld in ?
 
 86 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 Frithshire, did you say, Made- 
 moiselle ? How clever of you 
 to know ! Let me see, do I 
 put M.B. or N.B. for Scotland ? 
 There, Evelyn, for heaven's sake 
 take care that letter goes. Good- 
 bye, Mrs. Merrington ; so jolly 
 of you to give a dance. Good- 
 bye, Evelyn ; don't forget to write 
 for Hawkins' men. Good-bye, 
 Mademoiselle. Cosmo, you ought 
 to be ashamed of yourself. I 
 haven't had time to say half I 
 wanted to say. Good-bye, Mr. 
 Merrington ; you and I must 
 have a dance on Tuesday, a 
 square dance, I mean. I am 
 not quite sure of your step, and 
 besides " 
 
 The remainder of the sentence 
 was drowned in the noise of 
 wheels and hoofs upon the 
 gravel, as the drag drove swiftly 
 away. Mrs. Fox was really gone, 
 and the stillness she left behind 
 was solemnly impressive. 
 
 The servants proceeded to 
 rearrange the hall ; Evelyn and 
 Mademoiselle Ixe went off to-
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 87 
 
 wards their own wing ; and Mr. 
 and Mrs. Merrington retired to 
 the drawing-room to decide which 
 of the two was responsible for 
 the impending entertainment. 
 When Evelyn joined them about 
 twenty minutes later, this 
 tendency to reproach each other 
 had given way to unanimous 
 condemnation of Mrs. Fox. Mrs. 
 Merrington, gratified by this 
 unusual instance of right judg- 
 ment on the part of her husband, 
 in whose eyes Mrs. Fox and her 
 doings were usually perfection, 
 was disposed to take a more 
 cheerful view of the prospect. 
 
 " After all, I dare say it won't 
 be so much trouble or expense. 
 I am afraid Mrs. Barnes will be 
 displeased at our having it in 
 Lent, but really one cannot 
 satisfy everybody, and I do not 
 quite approve of all this fuss 
 about times and seasons. I shall 
 not have much of a supper. 
 They cannot expect it, at such 
 short notice." 
 
 " Supper indeed ! " said Mr.
 
 88 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 Merrington, warming himself on 
 the rug, and looking half amused, 
 half angry, " I wonder Mrs. Fox 
 didn't order the supper when she 
 was about it. I shouldn't give 
 them any supper." 
 
 "Oh, daddy!" said Evelyn, 
 nestling up to him, and rubbing 
 her curly head against his 
 shoulder in a kitten-like caress. 
 " You know nobody would be 
 more disappointed than yourself 
 when supper-time came." 
 
 "Do I ? " looking tenderly 
 down into the laughing face. 
 " Well, perhaps I had better eat 
 when I have the chance, as the 
 day after I shall probably lunch 
 in Carchester gaol." 
 
 " Oh, papa ! as if a little dance 
 like that could ruin you." 
 
 " I'm nearly ruined already. 
 It's the last straw. You little 
 rascal ! All you care for is the 
 dance. I dare say after all it 
 was you who started the idea. 
 Confess." 
 
 " No, indeed, daddy." 
 
 "Who did, then?"
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 89 
 
 Mr. Merrington hardly ex- 
 pected, and did not wait for 
 his answer. He pinched his 
 daughter's soft little ear threat- 
 eningly, and departed, leaving 
 Evelyn to follow a curious train 
 of thought suggested by his 
 question. 
 
 " If any one did start the 
 idea," was her conclusion, "it 
 was Mademoiselle Ixe. Poor 
 Mademoiselle Ixe, as if she could 
 have any interest in having a 
 ball. I don't think dancing is 
 much in her line ; but I am very 
 much obliged to her all the 
 same." 
 
 These reflections were inter- 
 rupted by Mrs. Merrington, who 
 now looked up from her writing- 
 table. 
 
 " Evelyn, my darling, you wijl 
 ruin your complexion, and your 
 eyes too, if you sit staring into 
 the fire like that. I wish, dear, 
 you would go and make sure 
 that I have put Downshire on 
 my letter to Hawkins, or those 
 stupid post-office people will send
 
 90 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 it up to Carchester, in Hill- 
 shire." 
 
 " Is it in the bag, mamma ? " 
 " Yes, I put it in quite half an 
 hour ago, and I cannot remember 
 whether I put Downshire or not. 
 Make haste, my love ; the post- 
 man will be here directly." 
 
 Evelyn obeyed, humming Made- 
 moiselle Ixe's waltz, and crossed 
 the hall dancing to its music. 
 The only lamp as yet lighted 
 threw a small sphere of bright- 
 ness over the oak table on which 
 it stood. There lay the post- 
 bag, still unlocked. It was very 
 full, and Evelyn at first could 
 not find what she wanted. 
 Finally, still singing, she emptied 
 the contents of the bag upon 
 the table, distinguished the letter 
 to Hawkins, made sure that it 
 was accurately and fully ad- 
 dressed, and then bundled all 
 the letters back again. In doing 
 so her eye caught sight of some- 
 thing which made her stop sing- 
 ing, and hastily snatch up one 
 of the envelopes. It was the
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 9! 
 
 one which not an hour since she 
 had watched Mrs. Cosmo Fox 
 fasten down and address. In 
 the meantime the direction had 
 been altered. The words Dun- 
 mere Castle, Frithshire, N.B., 
 had been erased, and " Claridge's 
 Hotel, London," substituted in 
 Mademoiselle Ixe's small, foreign, 
 and unmistakable handwriting.
 
 IV. 
 
 'HE rain which had been 
 threatening for some 
 days finally descended 
 upon Sunday, and by 
 pouring steadily from 
 morn till eve, com- 
 pleted the gloomy character of 
 that sacred day, as observed 
 under Mrs. Merrington's roof. 
 Not only, according to her sys- 
 tem, was attendance at two 
 public and two private services 
 rigorously enforced, but secular 
 music and literature were rigidly 
 tabooed, and conversation on 
 what was called worldly matters 
 generally discouraged. The effect 
 of all this was highly depressing, 
 on no one more than Mrs. Mer- 
 rington herself. She felt in
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 93 
 
 extremely low spirits as she sat 
 this special Sunday, about four 
 o'clock, alone, as she was apt to 
 be left on Sunday afternoons, in 
 the big drawing-room. 
 
 A Low Church sermon lay upon 
 her lap, while the rain lashed the 
 window-pane. The moment was 
 favourable for melancholy re- 
 flections, and her mind reverted 
 to Mrs. Barnes' insinuations. 
 She began to consider Made- 
 moiselle Ixe's demeanour upon 
 Sundays. 
 
 In Mrs. Merrington's presence 
 it had been always irreproach- 
 able. The foreign governess was 
 ready to go to church seven 
 times instead of two, if so re- 
 quired. She read, or at least 
 held respectfully before her, the 
 Sunday magazines and novels 
 provided for her delectation, and 
 played on the piano only pieces 
 of which the titles at least were 
 of a highly devotional order. 
 This was all very well, but how, 
 it now occurred to Mrs. Mer- 
 rington to wonder, how did
 
 94 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 Mademoiselle Ixe comfort her- 
 self in the comparative seclusion 
 of the schoolroom ? No rumour 
 of troubles in that quarter of the 
 house had ever reached Mrs. 
 Merrington's ears during the 
 three Sundays Mademoiselle Ixe 
 had been in charge, and the 
 children, on Sunday evenings, 
 had been found placid in temper, 
 and at least resigned in spirit. 
 Mrs. Merrington with unwonted 
 acuteness began to consider if 
 this almost unprecedented state 
 of things was compatible with a 
 faithful observance of her Sab- 
 bath rules. She determined to 
 judge for herself, and at once. 
 She left the drawing-room, 
 crossed the hall, ascended the 
 staircase, passed through the 
 swing-door at one end of the 
 railed gallery, and found herself 
 in the children's wing. The 
 ground-floor of this wing was 
 occupied by the. servants' offices, 
 the third floor by their bed- 
 rooms ; the intermediate one was 
 exclusively devoted to Evelyn
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 95 
 
 and the children, their governess 
 and their nurse. Of a long row 
 of doors, the schoolroom door 
 was the last, and it was open. 
 Standing outside it, Mrs. Mer- 
 rington could see only Evelyn 
 lounging in the deep window- 
 seat, but she could imagine the 
 children grouped uponthe hearth- 
 rug, for in that direction Made- 
 moiselle Ixe was telling a story. 
 
 " And when he looked out, 
 he saw thousands of men and 
 women and children chained to 
 the earth with heavy chains, 
 toiling early and late for the 
 cruel tyrants who oppressed 
 them." 
 
 " Why did they go on working 
 for the cruel tyrants, Made- 
 moiselle ? " 
 
 " They were compelled. If 
 they refused to work blood- 
 hounds fell upon them, and de- 
 voured them." 
 
 " Were they very tired, Made- 
 moiselle ? " 
 
 " Oh, very tired. They worked 
 so long ; they rested so little.
 
 96 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 Scarcely had they time to look 
 up at the green trees and the 
 blue sky." 
 
 Mademoiselle Ixe's voice, a 
 sad one even when she spoke 
 lightly, sounded now as woeful 
 as the autumn wind among 
 dripping boughs. Mrs. Merring- 
 ton was impressed against her 
 will. 
 
 " And did they never try to 
 break their chains, Mademoi- 
 selle ? " 
 
 " Sometimes, and then their 
 tyrants threw them into horrible 
 dungeons, deep down in the 
 darkness and the cold. But now, 
 listen. When he saw all these 
 poor things, he was very sad, and 
 he asked the messenger who they 
 were, and the messenger said : 
 ' These are your fellow-country- 
 men ; ' and then the messenger 
 went away. And after that he 
 was never happy any more in his 
 diamond palace, for he was 
 always thinking of his poor 
 brothers. So one day he took 
 off his golden crown, and his
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 97 
 
 purple robe, and dressed himself 
 like one of the poor slaves, and 
 went out to live amongst them, 
 and work amongst them, and 
 suffer with them, and teach them 
 how to escape from their tyrants. 
 Ah ! here is Madame." 
 
 The children forgot the story 
 in their surprise and satisfaction 
 at the sight of their mother, and 
 a place was instantly made for 
 her in the circle round the fire. 
 Mrs. Merrington, as she took it, 
 observed with an embarrassed 
 cough : 
 
 " I thought I had explained, 
 my dear Mademoiselle, that I do 
 not like the children to read or 
 to hear anything but sacred 
 stories on Sunday." 
 
 " I don't like sacred stories," 
 said the little boy, who lay full 
 length upon the- rug. 
 
 "Hush, Freddy," said his 
 mother, in a horrified voice, 
 " that is very naughty." 
 
 "And very ungrateful," added 
 Mademoiselle Ixe, " since I have 
 just been telling you one." 
 6
 
 98 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 "That wasn't a sacred story," 
 cried Freddy, in a tone of con- 
 temptuous incredulity. 
 
 " Pardon me," said his gover- 
 ness, " it was a sacred allegory." 
 
 " Indeed," said Mrs. Merring- 
 ton, secretly no less astonished 
 than Freddy. 
 
 " A sacred allegory," continued 
 Mademoiselle Ixe, "as you, no 
 doubt, divined, Madame, of the 
 history of Moses." 
 
 "Oh, Moses," cried Freddy, in 
 the tone of a person who feels 
 he has been duped. " I thought 
 it was a fairy tale. I don't want 
 to hear about Moses." 
 
 This shameless avowal from 
 the lips of her child gave quite 
 another turn to Mrs. Merring- 
 ton's preoccupation. She de- 
 livered a severe rebuke, and 
 then summoned the children to 
 return with her to the drawing- 
 room. Any change was delight- 
 ful, and they went cheerfully 
 enough, till they encountered in 
 the hall that faithful lover whom 
 neither tempests without nor
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 99 
 
 dulness within could deter from 
 paying his daily visit. Then, 
 finding that he was on his way 
 to the schoolroom, they pro- 
 ceeded with their mother, pro- 
 testing and whining, and in a 
 very unfavourable frame of mind, 
 for the catechism which awaited 
 them. 
 
 Parry, on the other hand, did 
 not altogether deplore an ar- 
 rangement which might secure 
 him a tete-a-tete with Evelyn. 
 Not only did he find her alone, 
 but he was received with the 
 gracious words : 
 
 " Oh, Parry, I am glad to see 
 you." 
 
 So unwonted a reception de- 
 prived him utterly of speech for 
 some minutes, and when he had 
 recovered, Mademoiselle Ixe en- 
 tered, carrying Winifred in her 
 arms. Winifred, who had a cold, 
 and was in a very unhappy 
 humour, brightened up at the 
 sight of Parry, one of her few 
 favourites. She would not leave 
 Mademoiselle Ixe, but sitting on
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 her lap beside the fire, con- 
 descended to be solemnly diverted 
 by the opening and shutting of 
 Parry's watch. Evelyn sat be- 
 side him, face to face with 
 Mademoiselle Ixe. It was the 
 opportunity she had been hoping 
 for all day, and she at once 
 seized it." 
 
 " Parry, have you heard from 
 the Count yet ? " 
 
 " What Count ? " 
 
 "What Count! Why the 
 Russian Count, of course, who 
 is coming with your people to 
 our dance." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I know who you 
 mean. Yes, Zephine heard this 
 morning." 
 
 "This morning? Are you 
 quite sure ? " 
 
 " Yes, she read the letter out 
 to us all at breakfast-time." 
 
 " But do you mean to say that 
 letter was an answer to the one 
 she wrote here on Friday ? " 
 
 " Yes. He accepted the in- 
 vitation, and said he'd be here 
 on Monday."
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 " Well, it seems to me very 
 strange that she should get an 
 answer to-day to a letter that 
 only started for Scotland on 
 Friday." 
 
 " He isn't in Scotland. He 
 wrote from London. He's at 
 Claridge's Hotel." 
 
 "Why, that is more extraor- 
 dinary still ; for the letter which 
 was addressed to Dunmere must 
 have been forwarded to him in 
 London." 
 
 Parry, still holding one end of 
 his chain, while Winifred was 
 struggling to open the watch at 
 the other, reflected for a little, 
 and then said : 
 
 " It couldn't have been ad- 
 dressed to Dunmere, because it 
 is two days' post to Dunmere, 
 and two days from Dunmere to 
 London that makes four days ; 
 so, you see, the Count couldn't 
 have received " 
 
 " Why, you stupid thing ! 
 That is just what I have been 
 explaining to you." 
 
 Parry was silent, discomfited
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 more by Evelyn's tone than 
 anything else. Mademoiselle 
 Ixe, with her eyes fixed on the 
 child in her lap, seemed lost in 
 thought. But Winifred had 
 played with Parry's watch for 
 more than five minutes ; its 
 charm was exhausted. She 
 pushed it away, and began to 
 whimper. Mademoiselle Ixe rose 
 and left the room soothing her. 
 
 " Winnie looks very seedy," 
 remarked Parry. 
 
 " Yes ; she has a cold. I sup- 
 pose you have never seen the 
 Count, Parry ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have once, in London." 
 
 "What is he like?" 
 
 " Oh, he looks an awful beast." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! " 
 
 " He does. I bet you anything 
 you like, if you saw him you 
 would say just the same." 
 
 " Fancy my using such lan- 
 guage about any one ! I dare 
 say I should admire him very 
 much. I am not prejudiced 
 against foreigners, like you are ; 
 I should like to see him."
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 103 
 
 " Well, you will, on Tuesday, 
 at the dance." 
 
 " Before that, I mean." 
 
 " Well, so you can. He ar- 
 rives to-morrow by the 11.20 at 
 Carchester. Why not drive over 
 in the afternoon, and have tea, 
 and then you can see him, you 
 know ? " 
 
 " I should like to very much, 
 with Mademoiselle. She wants 
 to see the Castle." 
 
 " Well, then it's settled. You 
 will come." 
 
 "Well, I will try; but some- 
 thing always happens to prevent 
 my going to Lingford." 
 
 " Excuse me," said Mademoi- 
 selle Ixe, who had entered the 
 room in time to hear this last 
 speech, " but I think that is 
 a great mistake : to be prepared 
 to be defeated. Even in small 
 things one succeeds by believing 
 in success. I make a point of 
 believing that I shall do what 
 I mean to do, and I generally do 
 it." 
 
 "Well, Mademoiselle, intend
 
 104 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 that we shall go to-morrow," 
 said Evelyn. 
 
 " I do," said Mademoiselle Ixe. 
 
 And then they were summoned 
 by a servant to afternoon tea in 
 the drawing-room. 
 
 On the following morning 
 Evelyn accordingly began : 
 
 " Mamma, do you think that 
 Mademoiselle and I could go 
 over to Lingford Castle this after- 
 noon ? " 
 
 " To Lingford to-day. I don't 
 think, my dear, you had better 
 attempt it to-day. You cannot 
 have the close carriage ; it has 
 gone to Strides to be mended, 
 and it would be imprudent to 
 drive so far in an open carriage 
 to-day." 
 
 " But, mamma, it is a very 
 fine day, and so sunny." 
 
 " Ah ! yes ; the sun is warm, 
 but the wind is in the east." 
 
 " Darling mamma, no, papa 
 said at breakfast it was nearly 
 due west." 
 
 " Ah ! well ; it is much the 
 same thing. It is very catch-
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 105 
 
 cold weather. It would be a sad 
 pity if you were laid up on the 
 night of the dance, and you 
 would not like to wear a high 
 dress if you were not laid up. 
 You see Winifred has a bad 
 cold, poor darling, and yet she 
 has not been out for a week." 
 Mrs. Merrington paused, dimly 
 and uncomfortably conscious of 
 a flaw in her own argument. 
 Nobody ever excelled less in the 
 difficult task of inventing reasons, 
 and various feelings prevented 
 her frankly confessing that she 
 did not like Evelyn to be much 
 with Mrs. Fox and her friends. 
 
 " I think one can hardly be 
 too careful, spring is such a 
 dangerous season," concluded 
 Mrs. Merrington. " Don't you 
 agree with me, Mademoiselle ? " 
 
 Here was an appropriate 
 occasion for Mademoiselle Ixe 
 to display the determination of 
 which she had boasted, whereas 
 she only replied with great 
 deference : 
 
 "Certainly: Madame is right."
 
 106 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 Evelyn, thus frustrated on all 
 sides, withdrew in some indig- 
 nation. 
 
 At luncheon that day, during a 
 pause in the conversation, Made- 
 moiselle Ixe said to Evelyn in a 
 low but perfectly audible voice 
 
 " Have you any objection to 
 take your lesson after, instead of 
 before afternoon tea to-day ? " 
 
 " Certainly not, Mademoiselle, 
 if you prefer it." 
 
 " Because I propose to walk 
 over to Lingford this afternoon, 
 and I fear I should not be back 
 before tea-time." 
 
 " Walk over to Lingford ! 
 Have you any idea how far it 
 is?" 
 
 " About six miles, is it not ? 
 That is nothing. I am a very 
 good walker. I wish to find at 
 the chemist's a certain embro- 
 cation, which I am sure would 
 greatly relieve the little Wini- 
 fred." 
 
 "Where is Mademoiselle Ixe 
 going to walk to ? " asked Mrs. 
 Merrington, and then Mademoi-
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 1 07 
 
 selle Ixe's intentions were re- 
 peated to her. 
 
 " Walk to Lingford and back ! 
 My dear Mademoiselle, you would 
 kill yourself, and it is such a 
 wretched little place when you 
 get there ; very likely you will 
 not find what you want. Let us 
 send some one over to get it." 
 
 "Alas! Madame, with my 
 wretched memory for English 
 names, I cannot remember how 
 it is called." 
 
 " Then how are you going to 
 get it yourself, Mademoiselle ? " 
 asked Mrs. Merrington. 
 
 " I shall recognize it the 
 moment I see it, Monsieur. I 
 will make the chemist show me 
 all his embrocations. It is as- 
 tonishing that I cannot recall 
 to myself that name. An old- 
 fashioned English remedy which 
 Lady Carline herself introduced 
 to me." 
 
 Upon this, everybody present 
 began to mention the name of 
 every embrocation he or she had 
 ever heard of, but no one was
 
 I08 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 able to discover the one of which 
 Mademoiselle Ixe was in search. 
 
 " In any case," said Mrs. Mer- 
 rington, "you must not walk, 
 and if you are not afraid of 
 driving on so cold a day, you 
 must have the carriage. It has 
 not been out to-day." 
 
 " No," said Mr. Merrington, 
 with some feeling, " but the 
 horses have. The chesnuts have 
 been over to Carchester and back 
 this morning to fetch something 
 for your ball" (such was the 
 manner in which Mr. Merrington 
 now alluded to that entertain- 
 ment). " Upon my word, I 
 believe women think horses are 
 machines, and made of cast-iron 
 too." 
 
 Mademoiselle Ixe eagerly dis- 
 claimed the intention of going to 
 Lingford on anything but her 
 own feet. Nothing was more 
 simple, and it would be a charm- 
 ing walk. 
 
 " No, I don't want you to walk, 
 Mademoiselle," said Mr. Mer- 
 rington, " and any other day you
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. IOQ 
 
 should have had the waggonette 
 and pair, but the fact is, if I 
 have a conscience about any- 
 thing, it is about my horses. 
 Of course the chesnuts could 
 do twice the distance if neces- 
 sary, but I see no good in working 
 them to the end of their tether. 
 But what I was going to say 
 was, if you don't mind going in 
 a not very smart two-wheeled 
 cart we have, Giles could put 
 the bay in, and drive you over 
 as soon as you like." 
 
 " Oh, Monsieur, you are too 
 kind, but I cannot think of your 
 having the carriage out for me 
 alone. If any one else had occa- 
 sion to go it would be different, 
 but really " 
 
 " It is not a carriage at all. 
 It is a shabby little cart. It 
 only holds two. I don't know 
 whether you'll think it tidy 
 enough to drive to Lingford 
 in." 
 
 " Oh, but a thousand times 
 too good, Monsieur, I am sure." 
 
 "Well, we had better ring,"
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 said Mr. Merrington, " and send 
 a message to the stables." 
 
 " Pray do not trouble, Mon- 
 sieur, or disturb the servants. 
 I have to go to the stables to 
 make inquiries concerning a 
 shawl I left in the carriage on 
 Saturday. I will tell the coach- 
 man if you will allow me." 
 
 " Very well. Tell him, please, 
 that he is to take you over to 
 Lingford with the bay in the 
 cart at at any hour that best 
 suits you, of course." 
 
 The luncheon party dispersed. 
 Evelyn withdrew to a favourite 
 nook in the drawing-room bay- 
 window, which commanded a 
 view of the Park Road, and the 
 gravel sweep before the front 
 door. She curled herself up 
 amongst the cushions in a 
 rather discontented mood. She 
 felt that Mademoiselle Ixe in 
 the matter of the Lingford ex- 
 pedition had somewhat basely 
 deserted her. The book she had 
 chosen to beguile her was not 
 very engrossing, and before long
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 her eyes and thoughts had 
 wandered from it, and gazing 
 dreamily out of the window she 
 mused upon the problem : What 
 could be Mademoiselle Ixe's con- 
 nection with the Count ? While 
 so engaged, she was startled by 
 the sound of wheels, and, to 
 her astonishment, beheld the 
 waggonette and pair drive up to 
 the door. She hurried out to 
 the hall, where Mr. Merrington 
 was already catechising Giles. 
 
 " What on earth did you bring 
 these round for ? " 
 
 "Cos I was ordered, sir; Miss 
 Heeks, she guv the order, sir." 
 
 " She didn't order the wag- 
 gonette and pair." 
 
 " Beg your pardon, sir, I 
 understood Miss Heeks to say 
 so." 
 
 At this instant Mademoiselle 
 Ixe appeared equipped for her 
 drive, and in good time to defend 
 herself. 
 
 " Tiens," she exclaimed inno- 
 cently, "the big carriage and 
 horses are going then."
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 " It appears that you ordered 
 them, Mademoiselle," said Mr. 
 Merrington. 
 
 " I ? No, indeed. Never." 
 
 " Beg your pardin', Miss, but 
 you told me you was to 'ave the 
 waggonette and pair." 
 
 " Ah ! no. It is a mistake. 
 I told you the waggon and the 
 bay." 
 
 " The waggon ! " repeated Mr. 
 Merrington. 
 
 "Waggon, cart, it is all the 
 same in English, is it not ? " 
 
 " Well, not quite ; but I see 
 how the mistake arose. Giles, 
 those horses are not fit to go to 
 Lingford, after going to Car- 
 chester and back this morning." 
 
 " Lord bless you, yes, sir," 
 said Giles, who in the first place 
 had more confidence than Mr. 
 Merrington in the endurance of 
 the beloved chesnuts, and in the 
 second was very unwilling to 
 undo his work, " they was nigh 
 so fresh a-comin' as they was 
 a-goin'." 
 
 " I shouldn't mind so much,"
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 113 
 
 said Mr. Merrington, medi- 
 tatively, " if you could put 
 them up somewhere for a little." 
 
 " Could put 'em up at the 
 ' Star,' sir." 
 
 " No, not on market day." 
 
 " If the ladies wanted to call 
 at the castle now, we might put 
 'em up easy enough there for an 
 hour, sir." 
 
 "Yes, that will do. Made- 
 moiselle, you must call at Ling- 
 ford Castle it's only a quarter of 
 a mile out of Lingford, you know 
 and ask them to let you put up 
 the horses for an hour." 
 
 " Oh, Monsieur, I could not 
 dare, I alone to take this 
 liberty." 
 
 "Oh, well, Eve can go with 
 you ; she is doing nothing. Eve, 
 run and get your hat and cloak ; 
 quick ! " 
 
 " But Madame thinks it is too 
 cold for Mademoiselle to drive 
 so far in the open carriage, 
 Monsieur." 
 
 " Too cold ! Good Lord ! It's 
 not so cold as it was on Wednes-
 
 114 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 day last, when she drove with her 
 mother to Carchester and back. 
 What on earth did you mean, 
 my dear ? " 
 
 Mrs. Merrington, who had just 
 entered the hall, could only offer 
 some incoherent remarks, and 
 secretly wonder whether Mr. 
 Merrington would ever recognize 
 the uselessness of asking her 
 to give explanations in public. 
 Mademoiselle Ixe poured forth 
 the story of the trouble and con- 
 fusion which had been occasioned 
 by her imperfect knowledge of 
 the English language. 
 
 "I think you talk English 
 quite wonderfully, considering 
 you have never been in England 
 before," cried Mrs. Merrington. 
 " I never remember hearing you 
 make a mistake before." 
 
 In the meantime Evelyn was 
 getting ready in hot haste, and 
 in a few minutes they were 
 driving along the road to Ling- 
 ford and to Lingford Castle. 
 As they did so it was impossible 
 for Evelyn not to remember very
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 115 
 
 distinctly their conversation of 
 the previous afternoon, but she 
 had not the courage to make any 
 open allusion to it, so completely 
 innocent and unconscious was 
 the expression of the face before 
 her. 
 
 " I am afraid," she observed, 
 as they clattered up the miniature 
 High Street at Lingford, "that 
 there is little chance of finding 
 what you want at Jones's ; he is 
 'just out' always of anything 
 one wants." 
 
 Mademoiselle Ixe, however, 
 almost immediately discovered 
 and recognized the embroca- 
 tion she required. 
 
 " But, Mademoiselle," cried 
 Evelyn, "that was one of the 
 very first names we suggested." 
 
 She did not venture to add 
 that it was a common remedy of 
 which Mrs. Merrington had pro- 
 bably more than one bottle in 
 her medicine chest. 
 
 " Decidedly, I am more than 
 usually stupid to - day," said 
 Mademoiselle Ixe, placidly. But
 
 Il6 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 the more Evelyn reflected on all 
 that had happened, the more 
 thoroughly convinced she became 
 that Mademoiselle Ixe was any- 
 thing but stupid. 
 
 There were two entrances from 
 the high road to the wide and 
 richly wooded park which sur- 
 rounded Lingford Castle. They 
 went in through the lodge gates 
 nearest to Lingford, and as they 
 drove along the winding road 
 which ascended gradually to the 
 castle, the view widened before 
 them, till they could see beyond 
 the brown glades and winter- 
 worn lawns of the park, wave 
 after wave of distant mead, or 
 down, or woodland, in shades of 
 shell-like lilac and grey and 
 yellow and rose, that melted and 
 changed like the hues of an opal 
 as sunlight or shadow swept 
 above them. 
 
 "Ah! what a lovely home!" 
 said Mademoiselle Ixe, while her 
 eyes rested meaningly on Evelyn. 
 
 " The other way, the way we 
 shall go out, is pretty too," said
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 117 
 
 Evelyn, colouring, " I like it 
 better in summer. It goes 
 through woods all the way to 
 the large gates." 
 
 They found Parry lounging 
 near the front door, evidently on 
 the outlook. 
 
 "Here you are after all ! " he 
 cried, joyously, as he opened the 
 carriage door. 
 
 " You may well say after all," 
 said Evelyn ; "it has not been 
 easy. Where is the Count ? " 
 
 " I am not sure, but the most of 
 them are on the tennis ground." 
 
 Here, indeed, they found Mrs. 
 Fox with several of the friends 
 she had mentioned on the previous 
 Friday, established out of doors 
 as if it were summer. 
 
 " And it is summer," cried Mrs. 
 Fox, looking very rosy and beau- 
 tiful in her white tennis dress, 
 " I call it summer when I feel 
 warm out of doors, whatever the 
 time of year may be. We shall 
 have plenty of sitting over the 
 fire when July and August come. 
 Will you play, Evelyn, or Made-
 
 Il8 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 moiselle ? Please, Parry, bring 
 some more seats and a rug, as 
 Sir George will have it that the 
 ground is damp. Well, Evelyn, 
 how's the dance getting on ? 
 You've secured Hawkins, I hope ; 
 I am counting the hours till 
 Tuesday night. Cosmo has taken 
 the Count off to see the farm. 
 The stupid old thing can't play 
 lawn tennis. Yes, I'm coming." 
 
 Mrs. Cosmo Fox went back to 
 finish her game, and Evelyn and 
 Mademoiselle Ixe were left to 
 chat with Parry and the other 
 spectators. Mademoiselle Ixe 
 listened respectfully to a de- 
 nunciation of lawn tennis as a 
 romping and unfeminine pastime, 
 from the dowager beside her, 
 while Evelyn grumbled at Parry 
 in an undertone for having failed 
 to secure for her the sole object 
 of the expedition the Count. 
 Afternoon tea was over, and still 
 he did not appear. 
 
 " I am afraid we must be 
 going," said Evelyn, dejectedly. 
 
 " Do you think the horses have
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 rested enough?" suggested Made- 
 moiselle Ixe. 
 
 " Would you like to walk 
 through the woods to the lodge?" 
 said Parry, inspired by a wish to 
 defer the parting hour as long as 
 possible, " and the carriage could 
 come on afterwards and pick you 
 up at the lodge." 
 
 Evelyn hesitated. 
 
 " I think we had certainly 
 better do as Mr. Lethbridge pro- 
 poses," said Mademoiselle Ixe. 
 " You have not had a walk to-day, 
 my dear Evelyn." 
 
 So they made their adieux and 
 departed. They had not long 
 plunged into the shade of the 
 woods, now brightened by beams 
 of ruddy gold that from the 
 western sky poured through the 
 leafless branches, when they met 
 Mr. Cosmo Fox alone. 
 
 " What have you done with the 
 Count ? " said Parry ; " Evelyn 
 wants awfully to see the Count." 
 
 " Happy man ! " said Mr. Fox. 
 " And your flattering wish is 
 likely to be granted, a little
 
 120 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 further on, my dear Evelyn. I 
 left him to finish his cigar down 
 by the yew-trees. And Parry is 
 going to introduce him to you. 
 I call that almost rashly generous. 
 Has he explained to you, Evelyn, 
 that the Count is a widower and 
 enormously rich ? " 
 
 " He'd need be rich," observed 
 Parry, as Mr. Fox departed and 
 they moved on, "to induce any 
 one to marry him." 
 
 " I pay no attention to any- 
 thing you say about him," said 
 Evelyn; "you are so preju- 
 diced. Is it not silly, Mademoi- 
 selle Why, where is she ? " 
 
 They looked round and saw 
 her some little way behind them, 
 stooping, apparently to fasten the 
 lace of her boot. 
 
 " By the by, Parry," said 
 Evelyn, " I want to warn you 
 to be careful what you say before 
 Mademoiselle Ixe about the 
 Count, because " 
 
 " There he is," said Parry. 
 
 There he was, indeed, coming 
 straight towards them, the cen-
 
 MADEMOISELLE 
 
 tral figure in a long perspective 
 of intertwining boughs and sun- 
 rays. He was smoking, and he 
 looked thoughtfully downwards 
 as he came, so that he did not 
 see them. Evelyn had just time 
 to catch a glimpse of a very dark 
 and repellent face, in which 
 various types were blended a 
 face with long Eastern eyes and 
 a protruding animal jaw, when, 
 as if moved by a sudden impulse, 
 the Count, still evidently uncon- 
 scious of their presence, turned 
 sharply to the left and went down 
 a side-alley. 
 
 " Well, really, Parry," cried 
 Evelyn, angrily, "that is too 
 provoking." 
 
 "Why how on earth could I 
 help it ? " protested Parry ; and 
 Evelyn, turning to reply, was 
 struck dumb by the sight of 
 Mademoiselle Ixe's face, close 
 behind them. It was deadly pale, 
 with the dull leaden palor pecu- 
 liar to such complexions as hers. 
 
 "Good heavens! Mademoiselle, 
 are you ill ? " cried Evelyn. 
 7
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 "Nothing; only a slight pain 
 here, in my heart," said Made- 
 moiselle, faintly, with her hands 
 clasped below the voluminous 
 folds of her cloak. 
 
 " Take my arm," said Parry. 
 
 Mademoiselle Ixe declined, and 
 then, in deference to the repeated 
 entreaties of both, accepted the 
 proffered support. As they went 
 slowly on, Mademoiselle Ixe's 
 quick eager glance down the 
 turning which the Count had 
 followed did not escape Evelyn's 
 watching eyes. 
 
 " There can be no doubt about 
 it," was the verdict of this ex- 
 perienced little novel - reader, 
 " she is in love with the Count."
 
 'HE discovery which 
 Evelyn had made af- 
 forded her very great 
 delight. Romances in 
 fiction were familiar 
 enough to her, but a 
 romance in real life in full play 
 before her, that was indeed an 
 experience as new as it was en- 
 chanting. Her chief anxiety was 
 now to know something of the 
 past, that she might the more 
 intelligently follow the present 
 progress of this moving drama, 
 and she would have made an 
 attempt to do so, could she have 
 secured an undisturbed interview 
 with the heroine herself. But 
 for this opportunity, the time was 
 highly unfavourable. The next
 
 124 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 day, the day of the dance, was 
 one of wild confusion and scurry. 
 In this neighbourhood it was 
 impossible to offer any form of 
 hospitality to less than the en- 
 tire visitable population without 
 seriously offending all the others. 
 It was a tiresome state of things, 
 highly discouraging to social en- 
 terprise, but such was the feeling, 
 and it made itself so distinctly 
 felt on this occasion, and was so 
 hastily succumbed to by Mrs. 
 Merrington, that by Tuesday the 
 projected dance had assumed the 
 proportions of a ball. A great 
 many people condemned Mrs. 
 Merrington for giving an enter- 
 tainment in Lent at all, but very 
 few carried their disapprobation 
 so far as to abstain from being 
 present. Mr. and Mrs. Barnes 
 were amongst this consistent 
 number, and Mrs. Barnes, in- 
 deed, appended to her answer to 
 Mrs. Merrington's invitation in 
 a postscript often triumphantly 
 quoted by herself in time to 
 come her earnest hope that this
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 125 
 
 daring desecration of the sacred 
 season might not draw down 
 upon the house some signal 
 judgment. In spite of this, the 
 sanction of the Church was in a 
 measure secured by the promised 
 appearance of Mr. Golding, whose 
 dislike of dancing had been out- 
 weighed by his still greater 
 horror of anything so Popish as 
 Lenten observance. With the 
 invitations, the preparations had, 
 of course, correspondingly multi- 
 plied, and on Tuesday morning 
 much yet remained to do. To add 
 to Mrs. Merrington's anxieties, 
 Winifred was worse rather than 
 better, and was now confined to 
 bed. Her mother would have 
 been tempted at least to defer 
 the ball, if it had not been for 
 Mademoiselle Ixe, who gave her 
 other pupils a holiday and es- 
 tablished herself by Winifred's 
 cot for the greater part of the 
 day. 
 
 To Evelyn was committed the 
 task of decorating the hall, and 
 it was lunch time before she and
 
 126 MADEMOISELLE IX E. 
 
 her assistants had draped the 
 railings of both gallery and stair- 
 case, and framed every window 
 and doorway with wreaths of vivid 
 green, spangled here and there 
 with balls of crimson, white, and 
 yellow flowers. 
 
 " I think it is very pretty in- 
 deed," said Mrs. Merrington at 
 lunch ; " but I wish you had put 
 a wreath round the tapestry pic- 
 ture over the staircase. It seems 
 to want something." 
 
 " But, mamma, I have not 
 flowers enough, and a plain green 
 wreath would look quite funereal 
 round that faded tapestry." 
 
 " If daffodils would be suit- 
 able," suggested Mademoiselle 
 Ixe, " there are plenty to be 
 found at the Beeches." 
 
 " Yes, they might do," said 
 Evelyn, rather coldly. "The 
 truth is I don't much care for 
 decorating that horrid picture." 
 
 " Horrid picture ! My dear 
 Evelyn," repeated Mrs. Merring- 
 ton, " I assure you it is thought 
 very highly of by connoisseurs.
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 127 
 
 Mr. Dacres said he never saw a 
 piece of that period so well 
 preserved." 
 
 " It is the subject I don't like. 
 I hate Jael." 
 
 " Why do you hate her ? " 
 asked Mademoiselle Ixe." 
 
 " Because she killed Sisera in 
 such a mean way." 
 
 " Perhaps it was the only way 
 in which she could kill him." 
 
 " Why should she kill him at 
 all ? " 
 
 " Because he was the enemy 
 of her people." 
 
 " You appear to forget, Eve- 
 lyn," said her mother, in a tone 
 of grave displeasure, "that Jael 
 was not an ordinary person." 
 
 " Fortunately not," observed 
 Mr. Merrington, dryly, " as she 
 would not have been a pleasant 
 person to meet in ordinary so- 
 ciety." 
 
 " Perhaps, Monsieur, you might 
 have found her very pleasant had 
 you met her in ordinary society," 
 said Mademoiselle Ixe, with a 
 smile.
 
 128 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 " I do rot think it right," said 
 Mrs. Merrington, now seriously 
 displeased, " to talk of Scripture 
 characters as if they were living 
 people, like ourselves ; and we 
 know that Jael must have been 
 a good woman, for the Bible says 
 she was blessed." 
 
 In the silence which followed, 
 Freddy, who had been twice 
 checked during the last three 
 minutes for attempting to inter- 
 rupt his elders, was now able to 
 make himself heard. 
 
 " Mamma, I can get daffodils 
 for Evelyn. There are lots down 
 at the Beeches." 
 
 The little girls were equally 
 obliging. 
 
 " For heaven's sake let them 
 go," said Mr. Merrington, who 
 had been banished from his study 
 to a room just under the school- 
 room gallery, " and stay out as 
 late as ever you can." 
 
 " My dear ! how can you say 
 so!" said Mrs. Merrington. 
 "On the contrary, they must 
 be in early, for Freddy seems
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 1 29 
 
 inclined to have a cold. Yes, 
 my darling, you are. I heard 
 you sneezing this morning. 
 Mademoiselle, I think you had 
 better go with them. I will 
 take care of Winifred this after- 
 noon." 
 
 " And I will go too," said 
 Evelyn, readily, discerning some 
 chance of seeing Mademoiselle 
 Ixe alone. 
 
 Accordingly, at about three 
 o'clock, the expedition started. 
 It was first delayed by a little 
 dispute as to the route which 
 should be followed. Freddy was 
 extremely anxious that they 
 should proceed to the Beeches 
 by going down the park road, 
 through the lodge gates, and 
 along the Carchester high-road ; 
 but as this was by far the longer 
 of the two possible ways, and as 
 Freddy had no better reason to 
 offer for selecting it than his own 
 interest in a ferret being reared 
 for him at the lodge, his proposal 
 was unanimously negatived. They 
 went round to the back of the
 
 130 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 house, and passed through the 
 shrubberies and the kitchen gar- 
 den into the park. A little 
 footpath led them across a broad 
 stretch of sward, and after climb- 
 ing a high fence, they found 
 themselves in the wood which 
 at this side separated the park 
 from the high-road. A narrow 
 path through this wood widened 
 at last into a broad avenue of 
 grand old trees, renowned far 
 and wide for its beauty, and 
 commonly called the Beeches. 
 The mossy ground was still 
 littered with the crisp brown 
 leaves of last autumn, but above 
 them the fresh spring daffo- 
 dils rose brightly in clusters of 
 shining yellow. The children 
 plunged gleefully into the copse, 
 and gave themselves much need- 
 less trouble in struggling through 
 the thicket. Evelyn and Made- 
 moiselle Ixe pursued their task 
 more tranquilly, gathering the 
 flowers which grew thickly on 
 either side till their baskets were 
 filled, and they had reached the
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 131 
 
 spot where the avenue opened 
 on to the high-road. 
 
 Here they sat down on the 
 stumps of a felled tree to wait 
 for the children. It was a still, 
 soft day. The clouds had 
 brooded low and grey since 
 early morning; at evening it 
 would rain. But of this moody 
 sky they could see nothing where 
 they sat, with an impenetrable 
 network of branches and stems 
 above and around them. Just 
 under their fringe was visible 
 the flat white road itself, the 
 russet hedge, and beyond that 
 rich brown fallow and dun- 
 coloured sward, fading at last 
 into the cloudy blue of far-off 
 woods against the pale horizon. 
 Mademoiselle Ixe, supporting 
 her chin upon her hand, looked 
 thoughtfully towards the road, 
 and Evelyn, observing her, ac- 
 knowledged to herself that the 
 favourable moment had now 
 arrived. But how to begin ? 
 
 It was Mademoiselle Ixe who 
 spoke first.
 
 132 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 " This is the road by which I 
 came from Carchester, I think." 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle." 
 
 "Carchester lies to the right 
 of us, I think." 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " And Lingford and Lingford 
 Castle, though on the same road, 
 are situated in exactly the oppo- 
 site direction, are they not ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle. How 
 well you seem to know this 
 country already! You must 
 have what papa calls the bump 
 of locality." 
 
 " It is a gift which I have 
 cultivated. I have found it very 
 useful." 
 
 " In what way, Mademoi- 
 selle ? " 
 
 "Well, I have had to find my 
 way about in strange places at 
 all hours of the night and day, 
 when it would have been danger- 
 ous for me to ask my way." 
 
 It was no longer possible for 
 Evelyn to be startled at any- 
 thing Mademoiselle Ixe could 
 say, but this remarkable state-
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 133 
 
 ment afforded her an excuse for 
 observing in return : 
 
 " Surely, Mademoiselle, your 
 life has been, different from that 
 of most governesses ? " 
 
 Mademoislle Ixe, after a pause, 
 answered : 
 
 " I have not always been a 
 governess." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " At one time I was a sick 
 nurse." 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Before that I was a laun- 
 dress." 
 
 " Mademoiselle! Impossible! " 
 
 " Not at all impossible. I did 
 my work very well too, I assure 
 you." 
 
 " But, Mademoiselle, surely 
 you who are so well educated 
 and accomplished could have 
 found an easier way of of 
 making money." 
 
 " I did not want to make 
 money." 
 
 " Then what could I beg 
 your pardon, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Do not beg my pardon," said
 
 134 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 Mademoiselle Ixe, gently stretch- 
 ing out her hand to touch Evelyn's 
 caressingly for a moment. " I 
 am willing to tell you as much 
 of myself and my past as I may. 
 I like you," she went on, using, 
 as she spoke French, the word 
 which means love as well as like. 
 " You are one of the flowers that 
 I have found between the stones 
 upon the rough pathway of my 
 life. Dear little flower, when we 
 are no longer together, think 
 gently of me." 
 
 "Dear Mademoiselle," cried 
 Evelyn, seized and mastered at 
 once by the old irresistible charm, 
 " why do you say that ? I hope 
 we may be together for a long 
 time." 
 
 "We may hope, but we can 
 never confide in the future," 
 said Mademoiselle Ixe. " But 
 to return to that of which you 
 spoke to me, I lived and worked 
 amongst the miserable, the better 
 to serve them ; not to give them 
 alms understand me well but 
 counsel. In my country the
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 135 
 
 people lie crushed beneath a 
 tyranny so monstrous that their 
 souls, like their bodies, are but 
 half alive. Who shall inspire 
 them with the breath of life, the 
 desire of freedom, that they may 
 rise and deliver themselves and 
 take their true place amongst the 
 nations of Europe ? Happily 
 there are thousands who now 
 labour to kindle amongst them 
 the sacred fire of national life 
 thousands who for the people's 
 sake have left father and mother 
 and brother and sister, wealth 
 and pleasure and ease." 
 
 Had the range of Evelyn's 
 ideas and interests been a little 
 less narrow, had she been in the 
 habit of reading anything besides 
 stories in the magazines or 
 fashionable gossip in the papers, 
 had she been awake to the throes 
 and pangs which now convulse 
 the national life of countries less 
 happy than her own, this speech 
 might have revealed to her the 
 nationality and true character of 
 the woman beside her. But
 
 136 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 Evelyn cared for none of these 
 things. She classed them all 
 under the name politics, which 
 to her meant everything that 
 was dry, lifeless, and prosaic. 
 Of the wide kingdom of Romance 
 she knew as yet but one small 
 domain. She had now prepared 
 herself for a love story ; she was 
 waiting impatiently for its de- 
 velopment, and it seemed to her 
 that Mademoiselle Ixe had wan- 
 dered from the real point. She 
 made an attempt to recall 
 her. 
 
 "But, Mademoiselle, tell me 
 about yourself. Since you say I 
 may ask, what were you to begin 
 with?" 
 
 " I was the child of noble 
 parents, wealthy, and in high 
 position." 
 
 "Ah ! were you happy in your 
 home ? " 
 
 " Yes. My father was severe, 
 but just. My mother, tenderness 
 itself. My sisters, older than I 
 was, spoilt me. We lived in a 
 lovely country home in the bright
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 137 
 
 season, and I studied and read 
 and dreamt the summer away 
 in the woods. We spent the win- 
 ter in in one of the gayest 
 
 capitals in Europe. My exis- 
 tence was a perpetual fete. I 
 passed from one gay scene to 
 another balls, theatres, operas ! 
 Ah ! how ravishing the world 
 seemed to me then ! I imagined 
 that was human life. The dream 
 was pleasant while it lasted." 
 
 " Well, Mademoiselle ! " 
 
 " Well, one day I awoke. I 
 heard a voice." 
 
 "At last," thought Evelyn, 
 " he is coming." 
 
 " A voice," she continued, 
 rather dreamily, "which gradu- 
 ally drowned all others. And 
 one night I obeyed it. When all 
 were sleeping around me in the 
 house, I rose ; I clothed myself 
 in the coarse garments of a 
 peasant, I stole from my father's 
 house never to return. Obedient 
 to this voice, I ceased to live for 
 myself. I embraced poverty and 
 toil, suffering and danger. Some
 
 138 MADEMOISELLE IXE, 
 
 day it will call me to the scaffold, 
 and I shall go willingly." 
 
 " And this voice," said Evelyn, 
 timidly, bashfully conscious of 
 speaking like a sentimental book, 
 but at a loss how otherwise to 
 word her question \" this was 
 the voice of love, was it not ? " 
 
 " Of love," repeated Made- 
 moiselle Ixe, slowly ; " yes, of 
 love : the last, the supreme love 
 on whose altar we immolate all 
 others." 
 
 Her eyes turned towards the 
 meeting-line of earth and heaven, 
 dilated and kindled; her lips 
 parted in a rapturous smile, and 
 so irradiated was the whole face 
 that Evelyn, watching and mar- 
 velling, wondered if this could 
 be the same woman she and 
 others had called common-look- 
 ing. It was indeed the same, 
 transfigured as even, amidst the 
 darkest errors of faith and of 
 practice, men may be transfigured 
 by the glow of self - forgetful 
 passion. 
 
 But the little mole beside her,
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 139 
 
 still misunderstanding, still bur- 
 rowing after her love story, made 
 a second and less fortunate ven- 
 ture : 
 
 "Was it the voice of the 
 Count, Mademoiselle ? " 
 
 The effect of her own words 
 bewildered Evelyn. She hardly 
 recognized the cold set face that 
 turned slowly towards her. 
 
 " Of whom are you speaking ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon," stam- 
 mered Evelyn, in great confu- 
 sion. " I thought, perhaps, as 
 you seemed interested in the 
 Count, Mrs. Fox's friend I mean 
 at least you knew something 
 about him. I am sorry if I have 
 said anything to displease you, 
 Mademoiselle." 
 
 " I am not displeased with 
 you, dear," said Mademoiselle 
 Ixe, gently. She saw the girl 
 was frightened, and smiled re- 
 assuringly; but the smile, kind as 
 it was, did not soften the look of 
 stern determination her features 
 had assumed. For a few minutes 
 she remained silent, looking
 
 140 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 thoughtfully before her, like one 
 who had fallen into a reverie, 
 and that not a happy one. The 
 silence was broken by the voices 
 of the children re-emerging from 
 the depths of the wood. Made- 
 moiselle Ixe roused herself at the 
 sound, and, looking Evelyn full 
 in the face, said, in a business- 
 like tone : 
 
 "You startled me just now, 
 because my thoughts were so far 
 away from that of which you 
 spoke. You have divined aright. 
 I am interested in the Count, but 
 my interest is not a personal one. 
 I am charged with a message for 
 him from others. I seek an op- 
 portunity to deliver it." 
 
 " Perhaps you may have an op- 
 portunity to-night," said Evelyn, 
 much relieved to find the little 
 cloud was so quickly dispersed. 
 
 " I hope so." 
 
 " I should like to hear you give 
 it." 
 
 "You shall." 
 
 Then the children appeared 
 laden with daffodils, and wrang-
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 141 
 
 ling loudly over a basket which 
 had been upset by Freddy, unin- 
 tentionally he declared, designedly 
 said the others. The dispute 
 broke out afresh several times on 
 the way home, and was only for- 
 gotten when the business of tying 
 the daffodils into bunches ab- 
 sorbed their fingers and their 
 energies. In the hall they found 
 Parry, " already," as Evelyn 
 hospitably remarked. He had 
 driven over early in his dogeart, 
 as he explained, in order to be 
 useful. He was taken at his 
 word, and thanks to his exer- 
 tions, the gigantic wreath was 
 fastened round the tapestry in 
 good time. Then Evelyn was 
 free to devote herself to the study 
 of her own adorning, and she 
 went upstairs to inspect the con- 
 tents of a certain wooden box 
 which had arrived that morning 
 from London. Her thoughts had 
 been pretty equally divided all 
 day hitherto between the ap- 
 proaching dance and Mademoi- 
 selle Ixe's love story, but the
 
 142 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 latter was swept entirely from 
 her mind by the sight of her first 
 " real evening dress," as she her- 
 self called it. It lay outspread 
 upon the bed by Susan's reverent 
 hands, and shimmered through 
 the dusk like a frosted snowdrift. 
 To a little girl who had never 
 worn anything finer than a home- 
 made muslin, it was an entran- 
 cing sight ; still more so when it 
 invested the slender form for 
 which it had been made ; as then 
 it was discovered that not only 
 the gown but the wearer looked 
 lovely. Such, at least, was the 
 pleasant assurance of the tall 
 mirror as Evelyn gave one swift 
 questioning glance into it before 
 leaving her room, in obedience to 
 more than one imperative sum- 
 mons. Evelyn perhaps assigned 
 more than its due to the effect of 
 her dress, but her rosebud-like 
 beauty was indeed all the brighter 
 for its setting of filmy and glis- 
 tering white. The consciousness 
 of looking so fair was a little 
 intoxicating. She felt as if she
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 143 
 
 had been drinking sparkling wine 
 when she passed hurriedly into 
 the gallery of the hall. The 
 familiar home scene, shining 
 with lights and flowers, and 
 already filled below by a gay 
 and chattering crowd, showed 
 like a stage especially prepared 
 for her triumph. A long pre- 
 monitory and suggestive note 
 from the violin m,ade her young 
 nerves quiver with pleasure. She 
 went downstairs feeling, and in- 
 deed looking, as if she skimmed 
 rather than trod the solid earth. 
 On the last step Parry was wait- 
 ing for her. 
 
 " Evelyn," he began, beseech- 
 ingly, "you are going to give 
 me the first waltz, are you not ? " 
 
 But Evelyn, when in high 
 spirits, was especially disposed 
 to torment him. 
 
 " Don't be tiresome, Parry ; I 
 want to see something of other 
 people to-night. Why can't you 
 waltz with some girl you don't 
 meet every day ? " 
 
 As she spoke she turned her
 
 144 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 head inquiringly round, and en- 
 countered the gaze of two hand- 
 some and admiring eyes. They 
 belonged to Mr. Fox's cousin, 
 Captain Leslie, who had just 
 arrived in Mr. Fox's ttain ; Mr. 
 Fox, who wearied of waiting for 
 his wife, had started with all his 
 guests but one, leaving her to 
 follow with the Count. At this 
 moment stage whispers from 
 above became distinctly audible. 
 The children, whose share in the 
 festivity was to wear their best 
 clothes and look on at the dancing 
 from the gallery, were piteously 
 entreating the tender - hearted 
 Parry to bring them some ices. 
 On this errand of mercy he 
 accordingly departed, and re- 
 turned to find Evelyn dancing 
 with the owner of the admiring 
 eyes. Parry danced at Mrs. 
 Merrington's request with one of 
 the Miss Harolds, who spoke of 
 him afterwards as a young man 
 who seemed to grow duller with 
 years. After that he found him- 
 self compelled to conduct a
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 145 
 
 matron of some local importance 
 through a square dance, and then 
 he was free to attack Evelyn 
 again. But Evelyn was in a 
 more uncompromising mood than 
 ever. Captain Leslie was quite 
 the most fascinating man this not 
 very experienced young lady had 
 met. He talked as well as he 
 danced, seasoning his conversa- 
 tion with witty anecdotes and 
 descriptions, and skilfully con- 
 veying without direct compliment 
 his deep appreciation of his 
 charming partner. Evelyn was 
 by no means disposed to exchange 
 him for Parry, so that unfortunate 
 young man was again dismissed 
 on some pretext which looked as 
 flimsy as it was. 
 
 Mrs. Cosmo Fox was the last 
 to arrive, accompanied by the 
 Count, who, beside her, looked 
 not unlike a Satyr attendant on a 
 goddess. 
 
 " Late ! I wasn't the least late, 
 only Cosmo was in his usual 
 frantic hurry to be off. In Lon- 
 don, I assure you, Mrs. Merring-
 
 146 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 ton, if it was not for me we 
 should arrive everywhere before 
 they had lit the candles. But 
 how prettily you have done the 
 hall up! Well done, Evelyn! 
 Dear Mrs. Merrington, what has 
 Mrs. Harold got on her head ? 
 I never saw anything so won- 
 derful ; and why does Miss 
 Duncombe, with her complexion, 
 and at her time of life, wear 
 white? Who on earth is that 
 man in the corner, frowning ? 
 The new clergyman at Barton. 
 I am glad Barton is not our 
 parish. But we are losing this 
 divine waltz, Count," and meet- 
 ing Lady Duncombe's eye, she 
 added, hastily : 
 
 " The Count is engaged to me 
 for all the round dances." 
 
 And then, as Lady Duncombe 
 herself afterwards described it, 
 " she seized the unfortunate man 
 by the arm and led him off, with- 
 out a blush." Lady Duncombe 
 had the more excuse for her cen- 
 sure, as this was the third dance 
 her daughter had looked on at
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 147 
 
 from a side seat ; and there 
 was that lazy Mr. Lethbridge 
 lounging in the doorway. Mrs. 
 Merrington herself was struck by 
 this incongruity. 
 
 " Parry, dear," she said, not 
 too carefully examining his 
 countenance, " would you mind 
 dancing this waltz with Miss 
 Duncombe ? " 
 
 To Parry, smarting under a 
 sense of hourly accumulating 
 wrong, this innocent speech 
 appeared the crowning injury of 
 the evening. 
 
 " No, Mrs. Merrington," he 
 replied, savagely. " Excuse me, 
 but I will do nothing of the 
 kind." 
 
 He turned and strode away, 
 leaving Mrs. Merrington trans- 
 figured with amazement. A clue 
 to the mystery was almost im- 
 mediately supplied by Lady 
 Duncombe. 
 
 " Really, my dear Mrs. Mer- 
 rington, Evelyn has made quite 
 a conquest. This is the sixth 
 time she has danced, has she
 
 148 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 not, with that tall friend of Mr. 
 Fox's ? " 
 
 Mrs. Merrington, who had 
 been too busy catering for other 
 people's daughters to pay much 
 attention to her own, heard 
 these words with some dismay. 
 Following the direction of Lady 
 Buncombe's not too benevolent 
 gaze, she beheld Evelyn leaning 
 against the wall in a pretty atti- 
 tude of coquettish nonchalance, 
 while Captain Leslie fanned her 
 assiduously. To put an end to 
 this was Mrs. Merrington's first 
 impulse, and with more than 
 usual readiness she bethought 
 herself of an excuse for so doing. 
 She threaded her way through 
 the dancers to the somewhat 
 conspicuous couple, and after 
 apologizing to Captain Leslie for 
 interrupting his waltz, directed 
 Evelyn to go and fetch Made- 
 moiselle Ixe. 
 
 " She promised to come down 
 for supper, and it is very nearly 
 supper-time now. Insist upon 
 her coming, dear, and make her
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 149 
 
 come with you. Winifred is 
 asleep, I know, and Susan is in 
 the next room." 
 
 "May I take you into supper?" 
 whispered Captain Leslie, as 
 Evelyn turned to go ; but 
 Evelyn, in whom the spirit of 
 coquetry was now fully alight, 
 only turned on him an arch look 
 which might mean either no or 
 yes, but which he of course 
 determined to interpret as con- 
 sent. 
 
 At the foot of the stairs she 
 came face to face with an admirer 
 in a very different temper. 
 
 " Do you mean to let me take 
 you into supper ? " said Parry, 
 fiercely. 
 
 " Not if you look so cross," 
 said Evelyn, flippantly, as she 
 fled upstairs, leaving him also 
 prepared to maintain that he had 
 been accepted. 
 
 Evelyn, as the red swing-door 
 closed behind her, seemed to 
 have passed from one sphere of 
 existence to another, so still and 
 so dark felt the children's cor-
 
 150 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 ridor after the brightness, the 
 music, and the cheerful hum of 
 voices in the hall. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Ixe ! Made- 
 moiselle Ixe ! " she cried, tapping 
 at her door, " mamma has sent 
 me to fetch you. Come at once." 
 
 " Hush ! " said Mademoiselle 
 Ixe, opening the door. " You 
 will waken Winifred. I come, 
 this instant." 
 
 She went back to her dressing- 
 table to put some finishing 
 touches to her dress and fasten 
 something into the as usual 
 clumsily - made bodice of her 
 black evening gown. She gave 
 a hurried glance round, as if to 
 satisfy herself that she had for- 
 gotten nothing, extinguished the 
 lights, and then followed Evelyn 
 from the room. 
 
 " I must give one look at 
 Winifred," she said, as they 
 passed the nursery door, which 
 was ajar, and they both went in. 
 
 The fire in the grate was 
 flameless ; the room was dark, 
 save for the night-light which
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 151 
 
 flickered feebly in one corner. 
 Mademoiselle Ixe carried it to 
 the bedside and let its light rest 
 for a minute on the sleeping 
 child. She touched tenderly 
 and tentatively the little forehead 
 and hand, and lingered for a 
 space which, to the impatient 
 girl in the doorway, seemed un- 
 reasonably long. It is after 
 events that have stamped this 
 on Evelyn's mind. She lives 
 through it all often enough. She 
 stands in the hushed chamber 
 and hears the soft breathing of 
 the child and the far-off wail of 
 the violins in the hall ; and she 
 sees Mademoiselle Ixe's change- 
 ful face as she best loves to 
 remember it, with a downward 
 gaze, mild and benignant as that 
 of a Madonna. But at the time 
 itself she noted little of what she 
 saw. She stood outwardly fidget- 
 ing, inwardly chafing at the 
 delay, impatient to resume her 
 part in the little comedy down- 
 stairs. 
 When they passed through
 
 152 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 the red door together the music 
 had ceased, and the people were 
 streaming across the hall to the 
 supper-room. Mr. Merrington, 
 with Mrs. Fox on his arm, led 
 the way. Mademoiselle Ixe very 
 slowly descended the stairs, and 
 Evelyn, treading close upon her 
 heels, and peeping over her 
 shoulder, beheld Parry and 
 Captain Leslie standing sentinel- 
 wise at the foot of the stairs, 
 both evidently expecting and 
 intending to take her into supper. 
 
 Suddenly Mrs. Fox's voice 
 rang through the hall 
 
 " Count, Count ! " she cried, 
 looking over her shoulder, " I 
 have left my fan, my gold fan, 
 in the drawing-room. Please 
 get it." 
 
 Mademoiselle Ixe stopped 
 abruptly half way down the 
 stairs. Something apparently 
 had become disarranged in the 
 front of her gown and must be 
 set right. Evelyn waiting behind 
 her, furtively observed with 
 amusement, tempered by dismay,
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 153 
 
 her rival admirers below. Parry 
 the image of sullen, and Captain 
 Leslie of bland, determination. 
 
 She wished herself well out of 
 the dilemma, and looked up to 
 see why Mademoiselle Ixe still 
 hesitated. 
 
 "Mademoiselle, can I help you 
 to ?" 
 
 The sentence remained un- 
 finished. Mademoiselle Ixe's 
 head was now so turned that 
 the profile was visible to Evelyn, 
 and the look upon that profile 
 was so unlike anything the girl 
 had ever yet beheld on any 
 human face, that it arrested even 
 at that moment her distracted 
 attention. Strangely startled, 
 alarmed even, though without 
 being conscious why, she turned 
 quickly to see on whom or on 
 what this ruthless gaze was bent. 
 The hall was almost empty, for 
 every one but Parry and Captain 
 Leslie had gone into supper. At 
 this instant the Count appeared 
 in the drawing-room doorway, 
 exactly opposite to where they
 
 154 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 stood. Mrs. Fox's gold fan was 
 gleaming in his brown hand. 
 
 " Ah ! " thought Evelyn, with 
 a flash of recollection, " the 
 Count ! The message ! " At 
 the same moment a loud crash 
 beside her made her start convul- 
 sively, and she saw the Count 
 stagger forwards, throw up his 
 arms wildly, and then fall help- 
 lessly to the ground.
 
 VI. 
 
 S Evelyn tells the 
 story of that memor- 
 able night, she dwells 
 with especial emphasis 
 on the, to her, awful 
 pause which followed 
 the report of the pistol ; an 
 interval no doubt exaggerated 
 by her startled senses, during 
 which the people in the supper- 
 room, who had heard what had 
 happened, as well as those in 
 the hall who had seen, remained 
 motionless, as if paralyzed with 
 surprise. Captain Leslie was 
 the first to recover himself, and 
 mounting the intervening steps 
 in two bounds, he snatched the 
 still smoking pistol from Made- 
 moiselle Ixe's hand. The action
 
 156 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 vividly impressed upon Evelyn 
 the full import and horror of 
 what had happened, and even as 
 the startled crowd poured into 
 the hall, she swayed, and would 
 have fallen, but for the timely 
 aid of two upholding arms. The 
 darkness and the roaring waters 
 that seemed to close above her, 
 receded, and she was held back, 
 even on the verge of insensibility, 
 by Parry's voice, speaking as if 
 from a far distance. 
 
 " Evelyn, Evelyn, don't be 
 frightened ; he is not killed." 
 
 With a long gasping sigh she 
 opened her eyes, lifted her head, 
 and looked round. The first 
 tremor of dismay and terror had 
 given place to a dull numbness 
 which she had often experienced 
 in dreams, and with far less 
 emotion than a well-acted play 
 would have excited in her, she 
 turned her eyes slowly from one 
 feature to another of this extra- 
 ordinary scene ; the Count, 
 whose head drooped helplessly 
 on his breast, carried towards
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 157 
 
 the library by her father and 
 four or five other men ; her 
 mother, half-fainting, on a couch 
 at the opposite side of the hall, 
 surrounded by a cluster of sym- 
 pathetic women; and everywhere, 
 murmuring groups of men, with 
 grave looks, and women, whose 
 white, terrified faces contrasted 
 weirdly with their gay dresses 
 and sparkling ornaments. A 
 central point of complete repose 
 in all this confusion was afforded 
 by its author, who still stood, or 
 rather leant against the wall, a 
 few steps below that on which 
 Evelyn herself was standing. A 
 little lower still, Captain Leslie 
 kept unobtrusive, but attentive 
 watch, prepared to intercept her 
 first attempt to escape. But his 
 vigilance was needless. Made- 
 moiselle Ixe gave not the slightest 
 sign of any such intention. Her 
 arms pendant, her hands clasped 
 loosely together, her head thrown 
 back against the tapestried wall, 
 with steady eyes and melancholy 
 firm mouth, she might have stood
 
 158 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 for the statue of patience await- 
 ing the inevitable. 
 
 " It is a dream," thought 
 Evelyn; "it must be a dream. 
 I wish I could wake." 
 
 She shifted her position rest- 
 lessly, and Parry, prepared to be 
 severely repulsed for his service, 
 timidly withdrew his arm ; but 
 to his surprise she caught it 
 quickly in the clasp of both her 
 slender hands and clung to him 
 till her bright curls almost 
 touched his shoulder. It was 
 Parry's turn to think he was 
 dreaming, and yet he hardly 
 divined the full and flattering 
 significance of that half uncon- 
 scious, wholly instinctive gesture. 
 
 Mr. Merrington, followed by 
 Mr. Harold and Mr. Golding, 
 pushed through the crowd below 
 and came hastily up to the group 
 on the staircase, exclaiming, as 
 he came 
 
 " I can't believe she did : who 
 saw the pistol fired ? " 
 
 " I did for one," said Captain 
 Leslie, "and so must Miss
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 159 
 
 Merrington have done, for she 
 was close behind the woman 
 when she fired." 
 
 Mr. Merrington turned to his 
 daughter and read her unspoken 
 witness in her face. " Good 
 God ! " he exclaimed, recoiling 
 and leaning against the banis- 
 ters, " what is the meaning of 
 it ; is she mad ? " 
 
 " I shouldn't think she was 
 mad," said Mr. Harold, glancing 
 at Mademoiselle Ixe, who was 
 looking sadly and even depre- 
 catingly at Mrs. Merrington. 
 " I should say she belongs to 
 some political society. Fox says 
 he believes the Count has been 
 threatened more than once. 
 Most likely she is a Nihilist." 
 
 " Impossible ! " exclaimed Mr. 
 Merrington. " Why, she has 
 been teaching the children for 
 weeks " 
 
 He paused, and his speech 
 sounded as inconsequent as 
 many another which only gives 
 one link in a long chain of 
 thought. For in the twinkling
 
 l6o MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 of an eye he beheld this assassin 
 as he had known her during 
 all these quiet commonplace 
 days, sitting demurely at table, 
 knitting, beside Mrs. Merring- 
 ton's arm-chair, keeping time 
 beside the piano while Evelyn 
 played, wandering over the sunny 
 lawn with the children clamour- 
 ing joyously at her heels, or 
 later still, with Winifred's pale 
 face pillowed on her breast and 
 one little arm curled trustingly 
 round her neck. " Can such 
 things be ? " thought poor Mr. 
 Merrington. 
 
 And then Mademoiselle Ixe 
 spoke, and the sound of her 
 voice seemed to silence every 
 other in the hall. 
 
 " Forgive me, Monsieur, I 
 have used your protection to 
 attain my end. It was to kill 
 the Count that I came here. 
 I have tracked him for months, 
 I and others. I followed him to 
 England ; I became governess to 
 your children that I might meet 
 him. We knew he would not
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. l6l 
 
 fail to visit Mrs. Fox before he 
 left England. I did not wish to 
 stain your house with his blood. 
 I would have shot him at Ling- 
 ford Castle yesterday, but he 
 escaped me. In this matter I 
 have been unfortunate." 
 
 " And why in the devil's name 
 did you wish to kill him ? " cried 
 Mr. Merrington. " What harm 
 has he done you ? " 
 
 " Me ? None," cried Made- 
 moiselle Ixe, scornfully. " What 
 would that signify if he had ? 
 He is not my enemy ; he is the 
 enemy of my people, and of 
 humanity, too. Ah ! if you knew 
 all that he has inflicted on inno- 
 cent men, and even women, you 
 would shudder to eat at the same 
 table with him. He has been 
 tried and judged by his fellow- 
 creatures ; I would have been 
 his executioner." 
 
 "This is all very fine," said 
 Mr. Merrington. " But in Eng- 
 land, Mademoiselle, we call this 
 sort of thing murder, and we 
 hang people for it."
 
 l62 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 Evelyn gave a slight cry, and 
 sank down upon the steps. 
 
 "In England you are quite 
 right," said Mademoiselle Ixe, 
 composedly. " In England you 
 have a law which protects and 
 avenges you. In our country it 
 is not so. Our law is the will of 
 our tyrants. We must protect, 
 we must avenge ourselves " 
 
 "Vengeance is Mine," inter- 
 rupted Mr. Golding, holding up 
 his hand "Vengeance is Mine, 
 saith the Lord ; I will repay." 
 
 Mademoiselle Ixe turned first 
 on him and then on the picture 
 above her a swift keen glance, 
 bright as the flash of a steel blade. 
 
 " True, Monsieur. And some- 
 times His minister is a woman." 
 
 " Oh, what is the good of 
 talking to her ? " said Mr. 
 Merrington. "The question is, 
 what are we to do with her 
 now ? " 
 
 A consultation followed, of 
 which Evelyn remembers only 
 the conclusion, which was that 
 Mr. Merrington should exercise
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 163 
 
 his right as a magistrate to 
 detain Mademoiselle Ixe for 
 the present, and send as quickly 
 as possible to Carchester for a 
 police-inspector. 
 
 It was decided that her own 
 room would be as safe a prison 
 as any other, and she consented 
 with great readiness to proceed 
 there at once. Something like a 
 sigh of relief rose up from the 
 spectators below as, escorted by 
 the three gentlemen, she went 
 quietly upstairs and disappeared 
 through the red swing-door. 
 She paused once only, as she 
 went, to look at Evelyn, who, 
 with her head upon her lap, was 
 now sobbing bitterly. 
 
 " This poor child ! " said 
 Mademoiselle Ixe, in a tone of 
 the tenderest pity. " Some one 
 should take her to bed." 
 
 Mr. Merrington gave a dis- 
 tracted glance at his daughter 
 as he passed. 
 
 " Parry," he said, over his 
 shoulder, " like a good fellow, 
 send some one for Susan."
 
 I 64 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 " No, no," said Evelyn, putting 
 out her hand to detain Parry as 
 he turned to go, " not Susan. 
 Oh, help me ! I must go with 
 Mademoiselle Ixe I mean with 
 papa." 
 
 Feverish excitement had suc- 
 ceeded her previous apathy. 
 Even with Parry's help she 
 could not move nearly as quickly 
 as she evidently longed to do. 
 They arrived, however, just in 
 time to see Mr. Merrington 
 locking the door of Mademoiselle 
 Ixe's room behind her. 
 
 " I would leave the key in," 
 suggested Mr. Harold. " It will 
 make it more difficult for her to 
 play tricks with the lock." 
 
 " And nobody would ever have 
 the courage to let her out," said 
 Mr. Merrington. " I wonder now 
 whom I had better send to Car- 
 chester. One man is already 
 gone with the cart to fetch the 
 doctor." 
 
 " Let me go," said Parry. 
 " My little mare is as fresh as 
 paint, and with that light dog-
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 1 6$ 
 
 cart behind her will get over to 
 Carchester in no time." 
 
 Mr. Merrington readily ac- 
 cepted the offer, but his thanks 
 were interrupted by a servant 
 who came with a pressing sum- 
 mons from Mr. Cosmo Fox. 
 
 " I hope that unfortunate 
 fellow is no worse," said Mr. 
 Merrington. " Eva, my dear 
 little girl, shall I send Susan to 
 you ? No ? Then do, like a 
 dear child, go to bed. There's 
 no need to be in such a fright. 
 She can't get out, and for that 
 matter you can lock your door 
 inside, you know." 
 
 He kissed her hurriedly, 
 pushed her gently into her 
 room, closed the door, and then 
 returned with his companions to 
 the hall. Here everything and 
 everybody was in wild confusion. 
 Mrs. Merrington had been carried 
 to her room. Mrs. Cosmo Fox, 
 leaving her husband to attend 
 to the Count, had departed with 
 her friends. The remaining 
 guests, anxious to follow her
 
 1 66 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 example, were all demanding 
 their carriages at once, whilst 
 the servants, much more con- 
 cerned with the sensational events 
 of the evening than with anything 
 else, were carrying out their orders 
 with more haste than speed. 
 Parry, to lose no time, went 
 himself to the stable-yard, where 
 equal hubbub and even more din 
 accompanied the harnessing of 
 so many horses at once. He 
 found his own groom, and was 
 helping him to put his mare into 
 the shafts, when a footman came 
 tearing across the yard with a 
 note for Mr. Lethbridge. By 
 the light of a stable lamp, Parry 
 read in an unsteady scrawl, which 
 at first he hardly recognized : 
 
 " I must see you before you 
 go; at once in the schoolroom. 
 I want to see how much you 
 care for me, how much you will 
 do for me. 
 
 " EVELYN." 
 
 " Drive the mare round to the
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 167 
 
 lime avenue, and wait there till I 
 come," said Parry, as he tore off 
 towards the house. 
 
 The hot-blooded animal was 
 rearing with impatience by the 
 time her master rejoined her. 
 
 " I shall not want you, Jim," 
 he said to his groom, as he sprang 
 into the cart. " You will be more 
 useful here." 
 
 Meantime, peace and quiet, 
 banished from every other cor- 
 ner of the house, had found 
 refuge in the schoolroom cor- 
 ridor. The children themselves, 
 happily unconscious of all that 
 had happened since they closed 
 their eyes, slept soundly. Susan, 
 the only servant who spent the 
 night on this floor, had gone 
 down to join a select circle in 
 the servants' domain, which dis- 
 cussed vociferously to a late, or 
 rather an early hour, the tragedy 
 of the night. 
 
 There was no one to see or to 
 hear Evelyn as she unlocked the 
 door and entered Mademoiselle 
 Ixe's bedroom. Mademoiselle Ixe,
 
 1 68 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 who was writing at a table oppo- 
 site the door, looked up as it 
 opened, with an expression of 
 surprise, which quickly changed 
 to one of concern. 
 
 " Dear child ! " she said, lay- 
 ing down her pen, " how white, 
 how exhausted you look ! Why 
 are you still up ? You will be 
 seriously ill." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, I have come 
 to show you how you may es- 
 cape," said Evelyn, in the forced 
 voice of one who refrains from 
 weeping only by a strong effort. 
 " Parry is now fetching a ladder 
 from the garden. He will bring 
 it to your window here. You 
 can get down by that, can you 
 not, and then find your way to 
 the Beeches, across the park, 
 the same way we went this 
 afternoon ? Parry will wait for 
 you with the dogcart at the end 
 of the beech avenue, and then 
 take you on with him to Car- 
 chester. He will put you down 
 outside the town ; you know 
 where the station is ? You can
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 1 69 
 
 get there, and be off by an early 
 train to London before the news 
 of of what has happened to- 
 night can have reached the 
 station people." 
 
 All this was spoken as quickly 
 as possible. Evelyn paused 
 breathless. 
 
 " Mr. Lethbridge will do 
 this ? " said Mademoiselle Ixe, 
 admiringly. 
 
 " Yes, he has promised." 
 " How that boy loves you ! " 
 " But, Mademoiselle, for 
 heaven's sake make haste. Not 
 a moment is to be lost. Every- 
 body is busy downstairs just 
 now. There is no one to see us, 
 or to notice us ; but in a few 
 minutes it may be quite dif- 
 ferent." 
 
 Evelyn hurried to the door and 
 listened. She could hear in the 
 other part of the house the mur- 
 mur of voices, the rushing hither 
 and thither, the ringing of bells, 
 the opening and shutting of 
 doors, which rendered by con- 
 trast even more complete the 
 9
 
 170 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 silence and solitude of the gaj- 
 lery. 
 
 " It is perfectly safe now," 
 she said, returning to the table. 
 Mademoiselle Ixe did not move. 
 She sat resting her chin upon 
 her hand, and looking pensively 
 before her. 
 
 Evelyn wrung her hands with 
 irritation. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, oh, what are 
 you thinking of? Do you not 
 understand ? Parry is going to 
 Carchester to bring back the 
 police. Do you not remember 
 what papa says? If you are 
 found here they will take you 
 back to prison, and if the Count 
 dies they will " 
 
 "Hang me," said Mademoiselle 
 Ixe, finishing the sentence which 
 Evelyn could not. " I do not see 
 how I can escape. I shall be 
 observed, if not on leaving the 
 house, or the park, then in the 
 dogcart with Mr. Lethbridge." 
 
 Evelyn gazed at her in amaze- 
 ment, for these excuses were 
 brought forward in the manner
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 171 
 
 of a person who is hunting for a 
 pretext to avoid an unwelcome 
 duty. A slight noise was heard 
 outside the window. 
 
 " It is the ladder," said Evelyn. 
 
 Mademoiselle Ixe did not stir, 
 and a look of moody displeasure 
 gathered over her face. 
 
 Evelyn rushed to the wardrobe 
 and found a cloak and bonnet. 
 Hurriedly tendering them to 
 Mademoiselle Ixe, she cried, 
 passionately : 
 
 " Please, please, dear Made- 
 moiselle, put them on and go." 
 
 Then Mademoiselle Ixe seized 
 the girl's slender wrists in a grasp 
 which made her wince with pain, 
 and turned upon her a face liter- 
 ally blazing with fury. 
 
 " Why do you bid me go ? " 
 she cried. " What right have 
 you to drive me back to life 
 the life of a hunted beast, bleed- 
 ing and breathless, with the 
 bloodhounds always on his 
 track ? " 
 
 She tossed Evelyn's hands 
 away from her, sprang to her
 
 172 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 feet, and commenced pacing the 
 room. 
 
 " I can endure it no longer. 
 After all, my strength is the 
 strength of a woman. It is 
 exhausted. I can endure no 
 more. I have touched the point 
 where fatigue is pain, where 
 struggle is torture. Ah ! sacred 
 cause, have I not suffered enough 
 for you ? Brothers, miserable and 
 oppressed, have I not fought for 
 you ? I have shed for you, not 
 my lifeblood, but my life itself, 
 drop by drop. There is none 
 left in my heart; it is like a 
 stone. Pity speaks there no 
 longer. Let another come and 
 take the place which I have held 
 so long. I ask only my wages. 
 I have earned them. Give me 
 death ; let me die, oh, let me die ! " 
 
 The last words were called out 
 as if wrung from her by intoler- 
 able pain. She cast herself upon 
 the ground and wept aloud with 
 the terrible weeping of a strong 
 creature who'succumbs at last to 
 a great strain. Evelyn, feeling
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 173 
 
 sick and faint, had tottered to a 
 seat against the wall. She sat 
 there leaning her head wearily 
 back without attempting by so 
 much as a word to check an out- 
 break so dangerous at such a 
 time. 
 
 " What does it matter ? " was 
 her feeling. " What does any- 
 thing matter ? Surely this is the 
 shadow of death ? " 
 
 And something indeed died in 
 Evelyn that night, never to live 
 again ; the confidence of a happy 
 child who accepts as a true re- 
 flection of existence her own 
 most favoured and exceptional 
 experience. The vision of sorrow 
 leaves us better or worse, and I 
 have often thought that the 
 Evelyn I have since learned to 
 love and to honour for a sym- 
 pathy which surmounts all 
 bounds of creed or of country, 
 was born when first she felt 
 the presence of that cross which, 
 while it crushes one of us, must 
 overshadow all of us in this great 
 brotherhood of nations.
 
 174 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 The panting sobs died gradu- 
 ally away, leaving a weird still- 
 ness in the dimly- lighted chamber. 
 For some time Mademoiselle Ixe 
 lay so motionless that Evelyn 
 wondered dreamily if death had 
 heard and granted her appeal. 
 But presently she stirred, lifted 
 herself up, and rose or rather 
 dragged herself to her feet la- 
 boriously and languidly, like one 
 enfeebled by long sickness or 
 pain. She crossed the room 
 with a slow and almost unsteady 
 step, drank some cold water and 
 bathed her face and hands. When 
 she turned, she disclosed to 
 Evelyn a face livid indeed, but 
 with no other sign of the storm 
 of feeling which had bathed it in 
 agonized tears. 
 
 She threw herself at Evelyn's 
 feet with a smile which was at 
 once radiant and sad : 
 
 " Forgive me ; I repulsed you, 
 I spoke roughly to you. It was 
 not I who spoke ; it was a demon 
 whom I carry always here," 
 touching her breast, " a demon
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 175 
 
 of selfishness and of cowardice. 
 Sometimes, when my nerves are 
 overstrained as to - night, he 
 breaks his chain, he tears me, 
 he masters me. For the time 
 I am at his mercy ; his accursed 
 voice drowns every other. But 
 it is only for a time. The true 
 self is free again. I flinch no 
 longer. Since death does not 
 seek me, since it even rejects 
 me, there must be work still for 
 me to do. I obey, you English, 
 angel-faced child ; I return to 
 fulfil my task." 
 
 Moving quietly but alertly, she 
 seized the papers on the table 
 and thrust them into her breast ; 
 found a little purse and put it 
 into her pocket ; donned her 
 bonnet and cloak, and then threw 
 open the window. 
 
 "Let me help you," said 
 Evelyn, going to her assistance. 
 
 The night was rainy, moonless, 
 starless ; steeped in an inky 
 blackness which the eye could 
 not penetrate. The air struck 
 mild and wet against their faces.
 
 176 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 Far off in what seemed to Evelyn 
 a different world resounded 
 shouts and the clatter of wheels 
 on the stony pavement of the 
 stable - yard : nearer, only the 
 wind surging through the laurels 
 with a long heavy sigh. Made- 
 moiselle Ixe descended the ladder 
 deftly. When her head was on 
 a level with the window-sill, she 
 paused and looked up. 
 
 " Adieu, adieu, "she whispered, 
 kissing the small clenched hands 
 which held the ladder firm. For 
 an instant the light from the 
 room was on her upturned eyes 
 and tenderly smiling mouth ; then 
 the face vanished. When the 
 vibration of the foot upon the 
 ladder ceased, it seemed to Evelyn 
 as if Mademoiselle Ixe had been 
 swallowed up and lost in that 
 great sea of outer darkness. 
 
 What has been hitherto told, 
 I have learnt chiefly from Evelyn, 
 but the sequel has been related to 
 me by various others. 
 
 Parry's mare hardly justified
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 177 
 
 her master's boast, for she does 
 not appear to have reached Car- 
 chester till nearly three o'clock. 
 The police, however, were more 
 expeditious, and Parry, with an 
 inspector beside him, was able to 
 leave Carchester not much later 
 than a quarter-past three. 
 
 About four miles out of Car- 
 chester "occurred an accident 
 which has always been a subject 
 of speculation to Mr. Lethbridge's 
 groom and other persons aware 
 that his dogcart had been re- 
 cently repaired. A wheel came 
 off. After a little consultation it 
 was arranged that, in order to 
 lose no time, the inspector should 
 walk on to Mr. Merrington's, 
 while Parry, riding the mare, as 
 best he could, should go back 
 to Carchester as quickly as pos- 
 sible to get another conveyance. 
 With this it was hoped he might 
 be able to overtake the inspector 
 before he had walked any con- 
 siderable distance. Fortunately 
 the inspector did not trust too 
 much to this, but walked on at a
 
 178 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 brisk pace, for owing to some 
 more complications, of which the 
 particulars have escaped me, 
 Parry did not manage to start 
 again from Carchester as early 
 as might have been expected, and 
 did not appear at Mr. Merring- 
 ton's till after the inspector had 
 arrived there. That was, I be- 
 lieve, about twenty minutes to 
 six. The doctor had just de- 
 parted, having given a most 
 favourable report of the patient, 
 who was not nearly so dan- 
 gerously wounded as had been at 
 first supposed. The inspector, 
 after some delay, was conducted 
 by the housekeeper to Made- 
 moiselle Ixe's room, when the 
 fact of her disappearance was 
 discovered. The only person 
 who might possibly have heard 
 anything of this escape was the 
 inmate of the next room, Miss 
 Merrington, but her father would 
 not allow her to be wakened till 
 her usual hour, on the ground 
 that she had gone to bed 
 thoroughly exhausted by the
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 179 
 
 shock of the previous evening ; 
 nor could the inspector, though 
 he did his best, induce Mr. Mer- 
 rington to perceive how fatal was 
 this delay to all hope of recap- 
 turing the fugitive. Till eight 
 o'clock the inspector amused 
 himself by breakfasting and 
 examining the servants. Their 
 simple explanation of the matter 
 was that Mademoiselle Ixe her- 
 self, with admirable foresight, 
 late in the afternoon, had placed 
 the ladder where it was found. 
 One of the housemaids remem- 
 bered hearing a curious noise 
 outside Mademoiselle Ixe's room 
 when she (the housemaid) was 
 lighting the fire there, and a little 
 stable boy of Celtic extraction 
 had a dim recollection, which 
 grew more vivid with time, of 
 having seen the foreign governess 
 loitering in the early dusk near 
 the shed where the ladder was 
 usually kept. 
 
 This unreliable and not very 
 instructive information was all 
 the inspector was destined to
 
 l8o MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 receive ; for when, at eight o'clock, 
 Miss Merrington was disturbed, 
 it was discovered that she was 
 in no state to be questioned. 
 Indeed her condition so alarmed 
 her parents, that a messenger 
 was despatched to hasten the 
 promised return of the doctor. 
 After this nobody had a thought 
 to spare for either Mademoiselle 
 Ixe or the inspector, and he, per- 
 ceiving the case was hopeless, 
 returned quietly to Carchester. 
 
 For three weeks Evelyn was 
 seriously ill, and when she re- 
 covered, all mention of Made- 
 moiselle Ixe's name, and all 
 allusions to the night of the ball, 
 were, by the doctor's directions, 
 carefully avoided in her presence. 
 Long before her convalescence, 
 however, the Count had re- 
 covered and departed never to be 
 persuaded by all Mrs. Cosmo 
 Fox's blandishments to visit 
 Lingford Castle again. 
 
 The stagnant atmosphere of 
 the neighbourhood was enlivened 
 for months by the catastrophe,
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. l8l 
 
 and it was the one never-failing 
 topic of conversation at all social 
 gatherings, from the groups at 
 the church door to those at the 
 covert-side ; unless, indeed, Mr. 
 or Mrs. Merrington happened to 
 be of the company, as the first 
 looked black, and the second 
 became hysterical whenever the 
 subject was brought forward. 
 Parry, however, inspired no such 
 reserve, and he was more than 
 once cross-examined on the 
 somewhat complicated story of 
 his journey to Carchester. From 
 this ordeal he emerged as skil- 
 fully as might have been fore- 
 told, till by angrily refusing to 
 answer any more questions, he 
 confirmed the suspicions his 
 embarrassment had aroused. It 
 was Mrs. Barnes who gave de- 
 finite shape and distinct declara- 
 tion to the vague belief that 
 Parry had been only too tenderly 
 interested in Mademoiselle Ixe's 
 fate. Indeed this theory, in her 
 hands, accounted for many puzz- 
 ling features in the story. " No
 
 1 82 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 wonder the poor child was so 
 ill," she would say, shaking her 
 head, " and that the whole 
 family have hushed the affair up 
 as they have. I cannot pity 
 them. I told them how it would 
 be." 
 
 The excitement subsided after 
 a time, but Mrs. Merrington's 
 ball and its strange conclusion 
 were still talked of at dinner, 
 tea, and tennis parties for three 
 years, when a livelier theme was 
 provided by Miss Merrington's 
 marriage to Mr. Lethbridge. 
 
 About six months after her 
 marriage Evelyn sat late one 
 afternoon in the sitting-room 
 which had been so lovingly and 
 lavishly prepared for her especial 
 use. By a brisk walk through 
 the crisp autumn air she had 
 earned the keen enjoyment of 
 warmth and repose. She lay 
 idly back in the deep, softly 
 cushioned chair, watching the 
 wood fire which flickered on the 
 tiled hearth and flecked with 
 sparkles of light the richly-
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 183 
 
 coloured stuffs and the shining 
 surfaces, china, bronze, and gold 
 which lined every corner of this 
 nest of luxury. A pleasant 
 little perspective opened before 
 her of Parry's return from shoot- 
 ing and afternoon tea. She was 
 too drowsy to think or even to 
 dream. She lay basking in the 
 pleasant consciousness of one of 
 those bright seasons when life 
 is so enjoyable that we are apt 
 to forget that it can be otherwise. 
 She was disturbed, agreeably 
 disturbed, by the afternoon post. 
 There lay upon the salver, 
 strongly contrasting with the 
 stiff monogramed envelopes 
 around it, a small flimsy letter, 
 which bore the London post- 
 mark, and was addressed in a 
 minute foreign hand unknown to 
 Evelyn. It was this letter which 
 she decided to open first, and 
 she drew from the cover what is 
 best described as a rag of paper, 
 torn, begrimed, and covered with 
 close writing in brownish-red ink 
 if it were ink at all ! At the
 
 1 84 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 sight of that writing Evelyn cried 
 and started as if she had seen a 
 ghost the ghost of one now 
 three years dead to her. Too 
 impatient to wait for a. lamp, she 
 crouched upon the fender-stool, 
 bending till her head was almost 
 level with the bars, to catch the 
 glow of the fire upon the small 
 dim characters of this extra- 
 ordinary missive. And this is 
 the translation of what she read : 
 
 "A Russian prison, 188-. 
 " To us here in the darkness 
 from which we shall soon pass 
 to a still deeper darkness come 
 stray hints and glimpses from 
 the bright living world. And 
 thus I have heard of your mar- 
 riage. May you be happy ! And 
 you will be happy. It is the 
 right of natures like yours. Do 
 you think of me sometimes ? I 
 think of you often, and of all the 
 kind innocent people around you; 
 and then strange hopes come to 
 me for a world in which such 
 lives are possible. The prison
 
 MADEMOISELLE IXE. 185 
 
 walls vanish, and I see the great 
 elms and the flat meadows and 
 the thatched cottages, all sleep- 
 ing in the English sunlight, and 
 I hear the voices of the English 
 children singing, ' He hath 
 brought light to them that sit in 
 darkness, and in the shadow of 
 death ' ; and I dream that there 
 is a God who smiles at least 
 upon England, and that perhaps 
 some day He will remember us 
 too. 
 
 "x."
 
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