“Eminently so, eminently,” answered Monsieur Pilot promptly, as if he had been guardian of my reputation for years.  “We will consider the arrangements as complete, my clear Madame.  I will call tomorrow and close the transaction. Bon jour, Madame.”

And with rapid strides he hurried me away.

CHAPTER X.

The school became mine.  By vigilance and perseverance, I not only retained the pupils Madame had transmitted to my care, but added many thereto.

Monsieur Pilot, lively and friendly, visited me frequently.  I liked the little Frenchman; his gaiety served to divert my mind from reflections on the past, which like spectres would sometimes stalk grimly before me when unoccupied, I sought the quiet of my own chamber.

With my increasing success, my pupils’ interest fully occupied every moment of my time.  Meantime, not a line or word reached me from Bristed Hall.  Upon my installment as proprietor of Madame’s seminary, I had written to Mr. Bristed, thanking him for his kindness, and informing him that I should take measures to repay the expenditures he had incurred in my behalf, by placing quarterly in the hands of Monsieur Pilot a sum such as I could spare from my income, by means of which I hoped in time to repay my external indebtedness.

The only reply I received to this letter was a peremptory refusal, sent through Monsieur Pilot, to accept any return.

I had been more than a year in my new home.  Constant employment had developed my mind, and I flattered myself on having acquired a wisdom and sedateness such as ten years of quiet experience could not have given me.  But of this I was lamentably mistaken.

Of my silly yielding to circumstances which follow, the reader must not judge too harshly.  I was still but an immature woman, not yet twenty; the glamour of youth still hung over me.  I craved human love, and took the first that presented itself, just as any other ardent, imaginative girl in my place would have done.

One night late in autumn, when the sharp winds were already giving signals of the coming winter, of leafless trees and frozen ground, feeling the usual sadness which accompanies this season of the year, I walked out upon the piazza in front of the house, looking down upon the street.  I thought the keen air would put my blood in more active circulation, and thus dispel from my mind the brown and yellow fancies that filled it as the dying leaves of October strewed the ground.

My pupils had all retired to their rooms, and relieved of my charge, my thoughts were free to recreate.  I walked quickly back and forth, drawing in long draughts of the invigorating air, and reviewing the morning’s duties.  While thus engaged, my attention was arrested by the appearance of a tall man on the opposite side of the street, standing still and watching me.  As he caught my startled gaze he lifted his hat and bowed, and before I had time to reflect on his strange proceedings, had crossed the street and was standing on the pavement below.