The Chevalier's daughter

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

Madame spoke smilingly, and Mercer answered also with a twinkle of the eye.

"If I might venture to put a case, madame?"

"Go on," said my aunt.

"Suppose, madame, one of your own family, a woman neither very bright nor very learned, should be offered a service in a Protestant family, where she would be likely all the time to hear her own faith attacked by an accomplished Protestant minister—what would your ladyship advise her to do?"

"Fairly posed," returned my aunt, laughing good-naturedly. "Well, well, I will not urge you. But at least accept this little remembrance from me," she added, drawing out a very elegant little étui, with pencil tablets and all complete. "It will be useful to you and is valuable in itself."

Mercer accepted the present with many thanks, and retired.

"That is a good soul," said my aunt. "What a pity she is not a Catholic? She might have a real vocation."

The next day I removed to the lodgings which my uncle and aunt had been inhabiting for some time, and my uncle's establishment was broken up. He gave me all my poor aunt's wardrobe, except her most valuable jewels, and I in turn bestowed upon Mercer such of the things as were likely to be useful to her, together with a number of books of devotion which had belonged to Aunt Jem's mother.

Mercer was profuse in her thanks, and we parted the best of friends. I visited the good woman many years afterward, and found her at the head of the school which she had entered, and though an old lady, still hale and strong, and ruling her little kingdom with a wise and vigorous hand. I took from among her young ladies, one to be waiting-gentlewoman to myself and my eldest daughter, and I have never had reason to regret the choice.

I had written to my Lord Stanton asking permission to stay for a while with Madame de Fayrolles, and received a speedy answer, as some one from the neighborhood was coming direct to London. My lord evidently wrote in a good deal of irritation, and his letter was to the effect that he had not the least objection to my residing with Madame de Fayrolles since from all he could hear, she was a woman of reputation. He only hoped she had no sons to be bewitched—this sentence was scratched out, but I could read it. He sent me some money for my private purse and would remit more if I needed it. In short, it was plain that my lord dreaded nothing so much just now as having me returned on his hands.