Chapter 16 - Page 2

reception-rooms.

"Julia, my dear, you will have to go below--although it is at a most
inconvenient moment."

"No, mother--let Mr. Betts Shoreham time his visits better--George,
say that the ladies are ENGAGED."

"That will not do," interrupted the mother, in some concern--"we are
too intimate for such an excuse--would YOU, Mademoiselle
Hennequin, have the goodness to see Mr. Shoreham for a few minutes-
-you must come into our American customs sooner or later, and this
may be a favorable moment to commence."

Mrs. Monson laughed pleasantly as she made this request, and her
kindness and delicacy to the governess were too marked and
unremitted to permit the latter to think of hesitating. She had laid her
own handkerchief down at my side, to read the letter, but feeling the
necessity of drying her eyes, she caught me up by mistake, smiled her
assent, and left the apartment.

Mademoiselle Hennequin did not venture below, until she had gone into
her own room. Here she wept freely for a minute or two, and then she
bathed her eyes in cold water, and used the napkin in drying them.
Owing to this circumstance, I was fortunately a witness of all that
passed in her interview with her lover.

The instant Betts Shoreham saw that he was to have an interview with
the charming French girl, instead of with Julia Monson, his countenance
brightened; and, as if supposing the circumstance proof of his success,
he seized the governess' hand, and carried it to his lips in a very
carnivorous fashion. The lady, however, succeeded in retaining her
hand, if she did not positively preserve it from being devoured.

"A thousand, thousand thanks, dearest Mademoiselle Hennequin," said
Betts, in an incoherent, half-sane manner; "you have read my letter, and
I may interpret this interview favorably. I meant to have told all to Mrs.
Monson, had SHE come down, and asked her kind interference--but it
is much, much better as it is."

"You will do well, monsieur, not to speak to Madame Monson on the
subject at all," answered Mademoiselle Hennequin, with an expression
of countenance that I found quite inexplicable; since it was not happy,
nor was it altogether the reverse. "This must be our last meeting, and it
were better that no one knew any thing of its nature."

"Then my vanity--my hopes have misled me, and I have no interest in
your feelings!"

"I do not say THAT, monsieur; oh! non--non--I am far from saying as
much as THAT"--poor girl, her face declared a hundred times more
than her tongue, that she was sincere--"I do not--CANNOT say I have
no interest in one, who so generously overlooks my