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“Oh, Lady Frances, that is spoken like yourself–I love you in my heart–that’s right! that’s right!” thought Clara Hope.

Lady Diana fell back a few paces, that she might consult one whose advice she always found agreeable to her own opinions.

“In my opinion,” whispered Miss Burrage to Lady Diana, “you are right, quite right, to have nothing more to do with the happiness of a young lady who has taken such a step.”

They were just leaving St. Vincent’s parade, when they heard the sound of music upon the walk by the river side, and they saw a little boy there, seated at the foot of a tree, playing on the guitar, and singing–

“J’ai quitte mon pays et mes amis,
Pour jouer de la guitare,
Qui va clin, clin, qui va clin, clin,
Qui va clin, clin, clin, clin.”

“Ha! my wee wee friend,” said Clara Hope, “are you here?–I was just thinking of you, just wishing for you. By gude luck, have you the weeny locket about you that the young lady gave you this morning?–the weeny locket, my bonny boy?”

“Plait-il?” said little Louis.

“He don’t understand one word,” said Miss Burrage, laughing sarcastically, “he don’t understand one word of all your bonnys, and wee wees and weenies, Miss Hope; he, unfortunately, don’t understand broad Scotch, and maybe he mayn’t be so great a proficient as you are in boarding-school French; but I’ll try if he can understand me, if you’ll tell me what you want.”

“Such a trinket as this,” said Clara, showing a locket which hung from her neck.

“Ah oui–yes, I comprehend now,” cried the boy, taking from his coat-pocket a small case of trinkets–“la voila!–here is vat de young lady did give me–good young lady!” said Louis, and he produced the locket.

“I declare,” exclaimed Miss Burrage, catching hold of it, “’tis Miss Warwick’s locket! I’m sure of it–here’s the motto–I’ve read it, and laughed at it twenty times–L’Amie Inconnue.”

“When I heard you all talking just now about that description of the young lady in the newspaper, I cude not but fancy,” said Clara Hope, “that the lady whom I saw this morning must be Miss Warwick.”

“Saw–where?” cried Lady Frances, eagerly.

“At Bristol–at our academy–at Mrs. Porett’s,” said Clara; “but mark me, she is not there now–I do not ken where she may be now.”

“Moi je sais!–I do know de demoiselle did stop in a coach at one house; I was in de street–I can show you de house.”

“Can you so, my good little fellow? then let us begone directly,” said Lady Frances.

“You’ll excuse me, sister,” said Lady Di.

“Excuse you!– I will, but the world will not. You’ll be abused, sister, shockingly abused.”

This assertion made more impression upon Lady Di. Chillingworth than could have been made either by argument or entreaty.

“One really does not know how to act–people take so much notice of every thing that is said and done by persons of a certain rank: if you think that I shall be so much abused–I absolutely do not know what to say.”

“But I thought,” interposed Miss Burrage, “that Lady Frances was going to take you to the play to-night, Miss Hope?”

“Oh, never heed the play–never heed the play, or Clara Hope–never heed taking me to the play: Lady Frances is going to do a better thing.–Come on, my bonny boy,” said she to the little French boy, who was following them.

We must now return to our heroine, whom we left on her way to Mrs. Bertrand’s. Mrs. Bertrand kept a large confectionary and fruit shop in Bristol.

“Please to walk through this way, ma’am–Miss Hodges is above stairs–she shall be apprized directly–Jenny! run up stairs,” said Mrs. Bertrand to her maid–“run up stairs, and tell Miss Hodges here’s a young lady wants to see her in a great hurry–You’d best sit down, ma’am,” continued Mrs. Bertrand to Angelina, “till the girl has been up with the message.”