“I could cry with pleasure, mademoiselle,” he said.

“Hullo, that’s still a third title for you—mademoiselle,” I laughed.

She would not hear me.

“But we are going on a long journey, Ivan, all the same,” she said, in a very matter of fact unconcerned tone.

“WE HURRIED OUT GLAD TO ESCAPE THE SIGHT OF OUR
ENEMY’S OVERTHROW.”—[Page 326.]

“Where?” I asked.

“To New York, of course; where else should Mrs. Denver go, indeed?”

“Bully for you,” I cried and then—but Ivan was in the room; so I turned him out first and told him to go and pack, as we should start as soon as possible.

And we did.