"Of course we will. It was Jeanne-Marie who took care of you when you were ill, was it not? Tell me the whole story, Madelon. What made you run away from Liége?"
"There was a fever in the convent; I caught it, and Aunt Thérèse died; and when I was getting well I heard the nuns talking about it, and saying I was to live in the convent always, and be made a nun—and I could not, oh! I could not— papa said I was never to be a nun, and it would have been so dreadful; and I could not have kept my promise to you, either."
"What was this promise, Madelon? I can't remember your making me one, or anything about it."
"Yes, don't you know? That evening at Liége, the night before I went into the convent, when we were taking a walk. You said you wanted to make your fortune, and I said I would do it for you. I knew how, and I thought you did not. I meant to do it at once, but I could not, and I was afraid you would think I had forgotten my promise, and would want the money, so I got out of the window and came to Spa. But I lost all my money the first time I went to the tables, and there was a lady who wanted to take me back to the convent; but she went to sleep in the train, and I got out at Le Trooz. I don't remember much after that, for the fever came on again; but Jeanne-Marie, who keeps a restaurant in the village, found me in the church, she says, and took me home, and nursed me till I was well."
"And how long ago was all this?"
"It was last May that I ran away from the convent, and I was with Jeanne-Marie all the summer; but as soon as I was well again, and had enough money, I came back here—that was four days ago; and last night I had the money, and to-day I should have written to you to tell you that I had kept my promise, and made your fortune."
"And so it was all for me," said Graham, with a sudden pang of tenderness and remorse. "My poor little Madelon, you must have thought me very cruel and unkind last night."
"Never mind," she answered, "you did not understand; I thought you knew I had promised;" but she turned away her head as she spoke, and Graham saw that she was crying.
"Indeed I don't remember anything about it," he said; "why, my poor child, I should never have thought of such a thing. Well, never mind, Madelon, you shall come to England with us. Do you know you are a sort of cousin of mine?"
"Am I?" she answered, "did you know mamma as well as Mrs. —— as Madame votre Tante?"