“But what is there to wait for?” he demanded.

“I must see my lawyers first,” she answered slowly, “and before I leave London I must pay some bills.”

The Count drew a cheque book from his pocket.

“I will keep my word,” he said.  “I will pay you on account the amount we spoke of.”

The Princess opened her escritoire briskly.

“There is a pen and ink there,” she said, “and blotting paper.  Really your cheque will be a god-send to me.  I seem to have had nothing but expenses lately, and Jeanne’s guardians are as mean as they can be.  They grumble even at allowing me five thousand a year.”

De Brensault twirled his moustache as he seated himself at the table.

“Five thousand a year,” he muttered.  “It is not a bad allowance for a young girl who is not yet of age.”

The Princess shrugged her shoulders.

“My dear Count,” she said, “you do not know what our expenses are.  Jeanne is extravagant, so am I extravagant.  It is all very well for her, but for me it is another matter.  I shall be a poor woman when I have resigned my charge.”

De Brensault handed the cheque across.

“You will not find me,” he said, “ungrateful.  And now, my dear lady, let us talk about Jeanne.  Do you think that you could persuade her to leave London so suddenly?”

“I am going up-stairs now,” the Princess said, “to have a little talk with her.  Dine with me here to-night quite quietly, and I will tell you what fortune I have had.”

De Brensault went away, on the whole fairly content with his visit.  The Princess endorsed his cheque, and with a sigh of relief enclosed it in an envelope, rang for a maid and ordered her carriage.  Then she went up-stairs to Jeanne, whom she found busy writing at her desk.  She hesitated for a moment, and then went and stood with her hand resting upon the girl’s shoulder.

“Jeanne,” she said, “I think that we have both been a little hasty.”

Jeanne looked up in surprise.  Her stepmother’s tone was altered.  It was no longer cold and dictatorial.  There was in it even a note of appeal.  Jeanne wondered to find herself so unmoved.

“I am sorry,” she said, “if I have said anything unbecoming.  You see,” she continued, after a moment’s pause, “the subject which we were talking about did not seem to me to leave much room for discussion.”

“There is no harm in discussing anything,” the Princess said, throwing herself into a wicker chair by the side of Jeanne’s table.  “I am afraid that all that I said must have sounded very cruel and abrupt.  You see I have had this thing on my mind for so long.  It has been a trouble to me, Jeanne.”

Jeanne raised her large eyes and looked steadily at her stepmother.  She felt almost ashamed of her coldness and lack of sympathy.  The Princess was certainly looking worn and worried.

“I am sorry,” Jeanne said stiffly.  “I cannot imagine how you could have supported life for a day under such conditions.”