Agnes and her two foreign companions, Madame Leroux, and Mademoiselle Athenaïs, reached London in perfect safety about eight o'clock in the evening, and were conveyed in a hackney-coach from the inn at which they stopped, to the abode of Madame in Bury Street, St. James's. Here, her husband, a flower-maker and plumassier, who carried on his separate department of the business in another house, was very gallantly stationed to receive his chère épouse, and welcome her return. There was, besides, a demoiselle de / boutique, and a senior superintendant, or rather partner, who, with the female cook, all lined the passage as Madame alighted, and all joined in chorus to felicitate her and themselves on her fortunate arrival. After yielding first one cheek and then the other to the tender salute of her husband; after courteously embracing the partner, Madame Morinval, and nodding and smiling to the rest of the establishment, she recommended her packages to their care, and pushed her way towards the stairs.

‘Mais qui est cette pauvre petite?’ enquired Monsieur, looking, as well as the others, with great surprise at Agnes.

‘Laisse-la venir, mon ami. Je t'expliquerai tout cela tantôt.’

There was no more to be said: the child was suffered to follow her conductress, and in a very short time, found herself seated at a tempting little supper, which, under the direction of Monsieur, had been prepared to celebrate the bien-heureux événement of the evening. Madame took joyful possession of an arm chair at the head of the table, declaring / it was the first inviting repast she had seen, and the first agreeable moment she had experienced since she quitted London. Her husband was enchanted; the ladies seemed highly flattered; the cook boasted of her savoir faire, and recommended the dish which she thought her mistress ought to prefer; and the dog, who, very wisely, never allowed himself to be forgotten, was incessant in his demands for attention to his appetite.