"Pardon me," said the lady, in the kindliest manner, "I think you are English, and perhaps a stranger in Paris?"
"Yes," said Juliet involuntarily.
"Would you not like to come in and see our home? Then we could have a little talk together, and if I could be of any service to you I should be so happy."
For a moment, Juliet hesitated. The gentle, persuasive speech of her countrywoman won upon her. She felt a great longing to accept the sympathy thus proffered, but quickly she recollected the circumstances under which she had come to Paris, and shrank with alarm from the thought of being questioned concerning these.
"No, thank you. I must be going on. I must not stay, indeed," she said hastily.
"Perhaps we could arrange a meeting for some other time," suggested the lady. "Would you mind telling me your name, and where you are staying?"
For a moment Juliet was too confused to reply. A deep, painful flush suffused her face. But pride came to, her aid, and lifting her head, she said haughtily,—
"Excuse me, I cannot see that there is any occasion," and walked quickly on.
The lady stood still for a moment, looking after the girl with troubled eyes. Then she followed her, keeping at such a distance as enabled her to see whither Juliet went. She noticed that presently the girl appeared to be in some doubt as to her road, and paused once or twice to ask her way of a passer-by. Finally she passed up a narrow street, having first received some directions from a man who stood at the corner selling matches. The lady knew the man, and went forward to speak to him.
"Good-day, Varnier," she said to him in French. "That was a young English lady who spoke to you just now. What place did she want?"