"Oh, never mind; nothing for your ears, my dear."
"Here is the post," says Eleanor with a sigh of relief. She is glad for the introduction of letters to turn the subject.
"Only one for me," turning the envelope over. "I really dare not open it."
"Why? Who is it from?"
"That insatiable Madame Faustine. It will be the bill for my black tea-gown and the blue silk blouse that you admired so much, Philip, dear. Now you may have this letter, and pay it yourself if you are awfully good," laughing merrily. "I will give you the number of sovereigns in kisses."
She looked so pretty as she handed it to him that he tore it open leniently, but no bill fell out.
The letter ran thus:
MADAME,—I am writing to ask you a personal favour, with regard to Mrs. Mounteagle, who kindly introduced me to you. I was prevented mentioning it to you to-day by the presence of my assistant. Could you induce Mrs. Mounteagle to remit me a portion, at least, of her long-outstanding account? She has not been lately to our establishment, and I cannot get my letters answered. I thought perhaps you might use your influence, and oblige very greatly.
Yours respectfully,
LOUISE FAUSTINE.
"A thousand devils!" cried Philip, crushing the letter in his hand. "She lied to me—you lied to me!"