“This is very bad. I do not know what I shall ever do with you, Juliette,” sighed the colonel, in dismay.
“I shall go back to you, of course,” she sobbed.
“No; that plan will not answer any longer. I can never have you again as a member of my family,” he replied firmly.
She could scarcely resist the impulse to cry out against him with the sharpest reproaches, but wisely restrained herself, and presently he said:
“I will remain with you here for a week, Juliette, and in that time I will decide regarding your future.”
That same day he wrote to Pansy and explained the situation to her, asking for her advice in the matter.
When Pansy heard of the sad plight of the girl whose wickedness had wrought her so much woe she rejoiced at first, thinking that Juliette had met her just reward for her sin.
Then kinder, more pitiful thoughts intervened, and at length she wrote to Colonel Falconer:
Send Juliette here to me, and I will stand her friend if she will treat me with proper respect.
He read those words to Juliette, who curled her lip, but did not refuse, for the contempt of all her old associates in her little social world had so cowed her that she was only too happy to accept Pansy’s offer.