Ad�le seemed scarcely to need the warning — she had already retired to a sofa with her treasure, and was busy untying the cord which secured the lid.

Having removed this impediment, and lifted certain silvery envelopes of tissue paper, she merely exclaimed —

“Oh ciel! Que c’est beau!” and then remained absorbed in ecstatic contemplation.

“Is Miss Eyre there?” now demanded the master, half rising from his seat to look round to the door, near which I still stood.

“Ah! well, come forward; be seated here.” He drew a chair near his own. “I am not fond of the prattle of children,” he continued; “for, old bachelor as I am, I have no pleasant associations