Rosemary | Page 9

the dog
who dropped his meat in the water, trying to snap at its reflection? Well,
I don't ask strangers for loans. I make my impression. Monsieur Hugh
Egerton is my friend--at present. Later, he will be what I choose. And
most certainly I shall choose him for a husband. What luck, meeting
him again! It is time I settled down."
"They said at Ritz's that he was one of the young millionaires, well
known already in America," the fat woman reflected aloud. "It is a
good thing that I have brought you up well, Julie, and that you are
pretty."
"Yes, it is a good thing that I am pretty," repeated the girl. "We have
had many hopes often before, but this seems to be the most promising.
I think it is very promising indeed, and I don't mean to let it slip."
She turned her back to the easy chair, and opened the pink bag. As the
woman talked on, she secretly counted out the money. There were more
than ten thousand francs in mille notes and others of smaller
denominations. Quietly she put them away in the top of a travelling box,
which she locked. Then she noticed the letter which the child had given
her, still lying on the dressing table, with her gloves.
"Here's something from la belle Americaine, upstairs," said she. "A

billet doux."
"A dun," exclaimed the woman.
"No doubt. It can be nothing else."
"Well, we can't pay."
"No, we can't pay," said the girl, looking at the locked box.
"Let me see, how much was it she lent?"
"Two hundred francs, I think. We told her we'd give it back in a week.
That's nearly a month ago."
"Serve her right for trusting strangers. The saints alone know when
she'll see her money again. She shouldn't be so soft hearted. It doesn't
pay in these days."
"Neither do we--when we can help it."
They both laughed.
"But when you are Madame--let me see, what was the name of the
young monsieur, they told you at the Ritz?"
"Egerton."
"Ah yes. When you are Madame Egerton--"
"Everything will be very different then."
And the girl slipped the key of the box into the little pink bag.

[Illustration: CHAPTER FOUR]
DOGS AND FATHERS

[Illustration: A]
After delivering her letter, the child went slowly on downstairs, to the
room she had been on the way to visit. It was on the second floor, just
under the room of the Comtesse de Lavalette.
"Come in," said a Cockney voice shrill with youth, in answer to her tap;
and the child obeyed.
Though this room was of the same size and shape, it was very different
from that of the Comtesse. The plain furniture was stiffly arranged, and
there was no litter of clothing or small feminine belongings. By the
window, which gave a glimpse of the sea, and of Monaco rock with the
old part of the Palace, a plump young girl sat, with a baby a year or two
old in her arms, and a nurse's cap on her smooth head.
"You invited me to come down after I'd had my déjeûner, so I came,"
said the child.
"Right you are, Miss Rosemary," returned the plump girl. "You're such
a quaint little body, you're a regular treat. I declare I ain't 'alf sure I
wouldn't rather talk to you, than read the Princess Novelettes. Besides, I
do get that tired of 'earin' nothin' but French, I'm most sorry I undertook
the job; and the Biby don't pick up English much yet."
"Don't you think he's a bright baby?" asked the child, sitting down on a
footstool, which was a favourite seat of hers.
"For a French biby, 'e 's as bright as you could expect," replied her
hostess, judicially.
"Are they different?"
"Well, they ain't Hinglish."
"I'm half American," said the little girl.
"You don't talk through your nose. Far as I can see, you've got as good
a haccent as me."

"I suppose yours is good?" asked Rosemary, as if she longed to have a
doubt set forever at rest.
"Rather! Ain't I been brought out from London on purpose so as this
biby can learn to speak Hinglish, instead of French? It's pretty near the
sime thing as bein' nursery governess. Madame wouldn't trust her own
wye of pronouncing the languidge. She must 'ave a Hinglish girl."
"And she sent for you on purpose?" the child enquired, with increasing
respect.
"Well, I was the only one as would come at the price. 'Tain't big wages;
but I'm seein' loife. Lor', I come down here with Madame and
Mounseer a fortnight ago, and Monte Carlo ain't got many secrets from
me. I was a duffer, though, at first. When I 'eerd all them shots poppin'