"What _has_ come over you, Elise? You're as clumsy as a cow!" he had no
notice to waste upon the _femme de chambre_. Yet I dared not so much as
murmur, "Pardon!" lest he should recognize my voice.

Fortunately my mistress and her husband were now ready to go up to
their rooms, and we left Monsieur Charretier engaging quarters for
himself and his chauffeur. Evidently he was going to stop all night; but
from his indifference to me I judged joyfully that he had not come to
the hotel armed with information concerning my movements. He might be
searching for his lost love, but he didn't know that she was at hand.

All my pleasure in the thought of sightseeing at Avignon was gone, like
a broken bubble. I shouldn't dare to see any sights, lest I should be
seen. But stopping indoors wouldn't mean safety. Lady's-maids can't keep
their rooms without questions being asked; and if I pretended to be ill,
very likely Lady Turnour would discharge me on the spot, and leave me
behind as if I were a cast-off glove. Yet if I flitted about the
corridors between my mistress's room and mine, I might run up against
the enemy at any minute.

I tried to mend the ravelled edges of my courage by reminding myself
that Monsieur Charretier couldn't pick me up in his motor-car, and run
off with me against my will; but the argument wasn't much of a
stimulant. To be sure, he couldn't use violence, nor would he try; but
if he found me here he would "have it out" with me, and he would tell
things to Lady Turnour which would induce her to send me about my
business with short shrift.

He could say that I'd run away from my relatives, who were also my
guardians, and altogether he could make out a case against me which