The next morning Beatrice had a slight headache and did not rise till the breakfast gong sounded through the walls of the great castle.

Just as she was ready her bedroom was opened and Margaret appeared.

"Oh Beatrice," she cried, "isn't it a lovely morning? Mama has just had a note asking us all to Mrs. Middle's garden party this afternoon, there will be a lot of English people there just arrived like yourself."

"Yes very nice," said Beatrice and the two went down to breakfast together.

Mrs. Vindsor and Honoria were already seated at the table enjoying the fragrant meal, but Clara had not yet come down.

"How late you are Margaret" protested Mrs. Vindsor.

"I am sorry Mother" said Margaret cracking her egg.

"So I should hope" said Honoria shaking her head so that the rose at the end of her tail swayed to and fro also.

After the meal was over Clara proposed to take Beatrice for a walk in the gay town as Margaret was going to trim a hat for Mrs. Middle's garden party, and Honoria always did the housekeeping.

Beatrice was delighted at the offer and soon joined Clara in the spacious hall.

"We must go this way" said Clara "as I have to go the Bank for Mother."

"Oh alright" said Beatrice taking Clara's arm.

Then followed a little conversation about nothing in particular, and by the time they reached the Bank Beatrice had quite decided that though Clara was very pleasant and cheery she was not as nice as Margaret who was kindness itself to the strange English girl.

"Would you like to walk up and down while I go into the Bank?" asked Clara.

"Yes please," said Beatrice who by no means appreciated Banks, and so saying she left Clara in the office and walked along the gay street. She seemed very strange as she walked through the strange streets and was so taken with the fancy shops that she forgot all about Clara in the bank.

"Dear me! what lovely gloves" she said as she stopped outside a large drapers shop "we dont have such things in England!"

Just then somebody passed behind her and in so doing brushed against her dress. Beatrice at once looked round and there walking quietly in front as though nothing had happened was a man!

Beatrice looked in amazement at the gentleman calmly receding up the road, and as she looked the form seemed to grow familiar in front of her eyes. Surely she had seen that navy blue suit before, that brown hat and those boots! Yes! the very walk was familiar to her. She knew that black curly hair and that well formed back again!—it was Lawrence Cathcart!

Beatrice gave a low cry and covered her face with her hands.

The man looked round and his eyes fell upon the figure of the unhappy Beatrice. He evidently recognized her for with a little hesitation he advanced towards her and taking her arm said not unkindly—"Come with me."

"I can't" groaned Beatrice.

"You must," said Lawrence.

Beatrice could do no more but slowly and sadly she followed her enemy.

Many thoughts flashed through her mind during that walk, thoughts that Beatrice will never forget.

At last Lawrence stopped at an Inn door and he mounted the steps and walked in. Beatrice followed in silence.

Presently Lawrence opened a door and the two went into a small but pretty bedroom.

"Now," said Lawrence, turning the key in the door and looking kindly at Beatrice, "have you changed your mind since we last met?"

The tears welled into Beatrice's blue eyes and rolled down her now death-like cheeks. "Lawrence," she sobbed at length, "I wish I could say I had, I almost love you Lawrence but I cannot marry you."

"Very well" answered Lawrence drawing his lips tightly together, "I see my journey to France has been made in vain; I may add," he continued "that I came here purposely to encounter you but all in vain! You have no real reason for not wishing to become my wife—it is not possible; but I will now flee from you and perhaps when I am laid upon my bed for the last time and Death has siezed me in its jaws you will repent of your past wrongs!!"

"Oh Lawrence!" Beatrice almost screamed in her agony "just one word before you go!"

"Not one," replied Lawrence, and with these words upon his lips he left the unhappy Beatrice in a swoon upon his floor.

Beatrice had given one hoarse scream as she fell to the floor, and it brought a couple of waiters to the room.

"What is it?" asked one.

"A young lady has fainted" said the other "run for the doctor quick."

The next instant there was a regular crowd round Beatrice all intensely interested, and in less time than it takes to tell old Doctor Holden was bending over Beatrice's white rigid face.

"She has had some shock I fear" said he feeling the thin white hand "can anyone in the crowd tell me where this lady lives?"

There was no sound of a reply for the first few seconds and then came a faint "yes" from the back of the throng.

"Come forward" cried the doctor. A rustling and a murmering of voices ensued and then the figure of a young girl rushed forward. It was Margaret Vindsor who had come out in search of Clara and fearing her to be lost had set out to find her.

"Now" said Dr. Holden giving Margaret a chair, "are you any relation to this young lady, and where does she live?"

"Oh Dr. Holden!" cried Margaret "she is a friend of ours and is on a visit to us—oh what shall I do? Oh poor Beatrice!!"

"Why Miss Vindsor is it you?" Asked Dr. Holden in surprise "Waiter run for a cab, we must take these ladies back to Le Chateau."

It was not long before the cab stopped at the Inn door and Dr. Holden assisted by two waiters lifted Beatrice into the cab and laid her gingerly on the seat, while Margaret speedily followed, and then the doctor himself jumped in and the downcast party drove back to Le Chateau.