diff options
Diffstat (limited to '75428-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 75428-0.txt | 8991 |
1 files changed, 8991 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/75428-0.txt b/75428-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..477bb3d --- /dev/null +++ b/75428-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8991 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75428 *** + + +Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed. + +[Illustration: He felt that he must make his presence known. (Chapter +XV.) + _Adrienne]_ _[Frontispiece]_ + + + + BY THE SAME AUTHOR + —————————————————— + +MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS + +"The vividly human and moving story of Rowena and her wonderful power +of influence in the lives of others will do every one good to read. +Charmingly told in Amy Le Feuvre's best manner."—_Northants Evening +Telegraph._ + +"A romance of a most pleasant and captivating character."—_Ladies' +Field._ + + +A GIRL AND HER WAYS + +"Miss Le Feuvre writes with much charm and insight of the escapades of +a modern girl who is fortunately possessed of the right spirit that +enables her to overcome her difficulties."—_The Record._ + +"Likely to become a popular book."—_Methodist Recorder._ + + +JOCK'S INHERITANCE + +"Miss Le Feuvre has never written anything more beautiful or more +amusing. The tone is as usual, excellent, and the story cannot fail to +interest one and all."—_Church of England Newspaper._ + + +NOEL'S CHRISTMAS TREE + +"Miss Le Feuvre has a classic style, and seems to be able to pierce +straight into the heart of human beings. It is a humane book, written +by a brilliant novelist."—_Cornish Echo._ + + + + ADRIENNE + + + BY + + AMY LE FEUVRE + + + + WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED + + LONDON AND MELBOURNE + + 1928 + + + +Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner Ltd., Frome and London + + + + CONTENTS + +CHAP. + + I. A LETTER + + II. AN ACCIDENT + + III. GODFREY SPEAKS + + IV. THE COUNT'S ARRIVAL + + V. AT THE CHÂTEAU + + VI. HER AUNT'S CONFIDENCES + + VII. THE LOSS OF AN HEIRLOOM + + VIII. LITTLE AGATHA + + IX. A CONTEST OF WILLS + + X. A MORNING RIDE + + XI. A SUMMONS + + XII. AT HOME AGAIN + + XIII. WHY THE COUNT WENT AWAY + + XIV. THE NOTARY'S DEFEAT + + XV. ILLNESS AT THE CHÂTEAU + + XVI. LOVERS + + XVII. WED + +XVIII. HUSBAND AND WIFE + + XIX. ALAIN'S TUTOR + + XX. AGATHA'S WARNING + + + + ADRIENNE + +CHAPTER I + +A LETTER + +SHE stood at the dining-room window looking out upon a snowy world. +The cypresses and firs at the end of the lawn were bowed down with +their weight of purity. There was great light, great stillness in the +atmosphere. And there was majestic grandeur in the groups of snow-laden +trees, and in the white hills that held tiny villages in their folds. + +The girl's eyes were dreamy, and a trifle wistful. Her dark curly hair +was unfashionably twisted up into a thick knot at the back of her +small, well-shaped head. She had straight determined features, and a +slim dainty figure. Her dark wine-coloured jumper and skirt suited her. + +As she stood there, one hand tightly clenched a letter; and no one +who saw her still attitude could have imagined what a tumult was +sweeping over her soul. Behind her was the breakfast table. The silver +tea-kettle was boiling on its stand. A packet of letters lay on the +corner of the table. There was a fragrant scent of bacon and kidneys +from a chafing dish. A bright-eyed Cairn terrier stood near the blazing +fire, occasionally giving quick glances at his mistress, but rejoicing +too much in the warmth and comfort of his position to join her at the +window. + +And then the door suddenly burst open and in came a short square +elderly man, with a slight grey moustache and a tanned weather-beaten +face. He looked the essence of fussy energy, and of health. + +He snapped his fingers at the terrier, and spoke to the girl: + +"What ho, Adrienne! How's yourself? No hunting for me! If I weren't +such a busy man, I should be hipped by such an outlook. Drake has been +telling me the stable pipes have burst. I must go and have a look at +them after breakfast. Now where on earth did I put that new-fangled +stuff for mending pipes, and grates, and holes of every description? +Didn't I give it to you to keep safely in your store cupboard?" + +Adrienne slipped her letter in her pocket, and turned a smiling face +towards her uncle, General Chesterton. + +"Now, Uncle Tom, you know very well you did not. Your patent foods and +plasters and patchers-up are always in the gun-room. Since I kept your +sticking-plaster in my store-room, and you turned my whole cupboard +topsy-turvy one day when I was out, I have refused to keep anything +more. Come and have breakfast, and don't touch your fat packet of +letters till we have had some food." + +"Where's Derrick? What a little martinet you try to be! But that packet +is mostly bills, I bet! Here's the lazybones! What do you think of our +white world? I told you snow was in the air last night." + +The new-comer had made his entry very quietly, and took his seat at the +table without a word. + +His appearance was hardly that of a naval man, though he was an +Admiral with a good many medals. He was a tall, handsome man, with an +intellectual brow, clean-shaven face and dreamy eyes like his niece's. + +The brothers were devoted to each other and had lived together since +their retirement, in their old home, a small manor-house in Devon. +Adrienne had come to them three years ago, fresh from her boarding +school at Folkestone. + +She bullied them, she coaxed them, and she mothered them by turns. +All three were on the happiest possible terms. General Chesterton's +chief hobby was horses and hunting; but he was only able to afford to +keep one hunter, and depended very often on mounts from his nearest +neighbour, Sir Godfrey Sutherland. + +Admiral Chesterton was a keen fisherman and a great reader. He was +gentle, neat, and very particular about conventions and propriety. He +had a small room of his own which he called his study, and when he +was not reading or manufacturing flies, he was compiling the family +pedigree. He was as tidy as the tidiest spinster, a marked contrast to +his brother the General, who never put a thing in its place, and was +perpetually mislaying and losing what he wanted, in a hurry. + +The General was a great talker and very impulsive. If the Admiral was +a gentle southerly breeze throughout the house, the General was a +blustering noisy sou'wester. Nobody was in doubt as to whether he was +in or out. He rarely sat down before dinnertime. + +But in the evening the two brothers played chess together. Neither of +them cared for cards, and if laughed at by their friends for such an +old-fashioned taste, would reply: + +"We have always played chess, and always will." And it was the only +time that General Chesterton was comparatively quiet. + +Adrienne sat behind her tea and coffee, and poured out for her uncles. + +"I'm rather glad of a day indoors," observed the Admiral, as he stirred +his coffee in a leisurely way; "our box from Mudie's arrived last +night, did it not, Adrienne?" + +"Yes. I hadn't time to open it. Drake will take it to your study. I +will tell him. I'm not going to have a day in the house, oh dear no!" + +"Where are you off to?" questioned the General. "If you go to the +village, get me a pound of French nails, will you? That trellis kept me +awake last night, tapping like a ghost against my window-ledge. There's +always something annoying me at night. Two nights ago it was the donkey +braying. And I can't do without my sleep. Extraordinary difficult thing +to make yourself sleepy. I pounded my pillow, and turned it a dozen +times, and then I rattled off all the limericks I could remember, and +by that time I felt electricity all through me—my hair positively +bristled. I struck a light and smoked two cigarettes, and I tried right +side, left side and back in rotation one after each other. Still I +couldn't droop an eyelid!" + +"I should think not," said Adrienne, with a merry laugh; "don't you +know that you shouldn't be strenuous in bed?" + +"But was I? I was doing all in my power to put myself to sleep. Working +at it till I got in a perfect fever of heat!" + +The Admiral was looking through the letters, and sorting out his from +amongst them. + +"An invitation to dine at the Hall next Thursday." + +"I'm bothered if I'll go," said the General hastily; "for I'm hunting +that day, and won't turn out again at night—not if I know it!" + +"But if this frost goes on, you won't be hunting," said Adrienne. + +She quitted the room, leaving her uncles discussing the weather +prospects, and made her way to the kitchen. Her housekeeping duties +were not very heavy, for Mrs. Page, the old cook-housekeeper, had been +nearly twenty years in the family; but Adrienne as a matter of form +discussed the meals with her every day, and she took charge of the +store-room, and supplied all necessary stores when needed. + +Half an hour later she stood in the hall, clad in her long fur coat. +A soft grey felt hat was crammed down on her curly head, and she had +strong brogue shoes and cloth gaiters on her feet. + +"Now I'm off," she sang out, as she passed the smoking-room door; "and +I'm going through the village, so I'll get your nails, Uncle Tom." + +The General came out, pipe in mouth, and accompanied her to the hall +door; Bruce, the Cairn terrier, was at her heels. + +"Ugh!" he shuddered as he looked out at the soft snow which the +gardener was sweeping away from the drive as fast as he could. "My old +bones don't like snow. We oughtn't to have it down here in the west." + +"Oh, I love it!" cried Adrienne, starting out gaily with bright eyes +and a flush on her cheeks. + +But when she was out of sight of the house, she pulled a letter out of +her pocket, and began to read it over for the second time. + +The contents brought a grave look upon her face. + +And then, with a little sigh, she folded it up, and put it back into +her pocket. + +The snow was crisp under her feet. As she walked along the road +bordered with fir woods on either side, it was a fairy-like scene. From +every branch the snow drooped in icicles which were sparkling in the +sun. Along a snowy glade under the pines she saw a rabbit scuttling. +Bruce scampered after it, and she had to wait till he rejoined her. +Then, suddenly, round a corner appeared a young man, accompanied by a +huge Alsatian wolf-hound. + +"Hullo, Adrienne!" + +"Hullo, Godfrey! You're the very person I want." + +The young fellow looked pleased. "I'm on my way to Strake's Farm. But +it will wait." + +"Walk to the village with me. Have you company on Thursday?" + +"Only the Rector and wife, besides Colonel and Mrs. Blake, who are +staying with us. I hope you're coming. These small dinner parties are +deadly, but you know my mother loves them." + +"Oh, yes, we are coming; but if there's a thaw, don't expect Uncle Tom." + +"He'll be hunting, I suppose." + +They were walking on together, Bruce making overtures to the big dog, +who viewed him indifferently. Young Sir Godfrey Sutherland, the Squire +of Compton Down village, was a big, broad-shouldered man, with a frank +smiling face and genial manners. He limped slightly as he walked, the +effect of a wounded leg in the War. He and Adrienne had been good +comrades and chums from the time when she first came to live with +her uncles. As a schoolgirl and boy, they had spent their holidays +together. Fishing, riding, and rabbiting in the woods; taking long +walks with the dogs; but never unless they could help it, keeping +indoors for long. Adrienne had no brothers or sisters, and had turned +to Godfrey for advice, comfort, and sympathy whenever the occasion +required it. + +He did not hurry her now; he knew by her face that something was wrong. + +And very soon she commenced: + +"Godfrey, I've had a letter this morning from my aunt in France." + +"I know. The Comtesse de Beaudessert, isn't she? She's not descending +upon you again, is she?" + +"Oh, no. I'll let you read her letter. She's in bad health, she says. +I haven't said a word to the uncles. They get so fussed and worried at +the very sound of her name. But it's the same old story: only much more +difficult to combat now." + +"She wants you to go to her?" + +"Read what she says." + +The letter was handed to him. It was as follows: + + "MY DEAR ADRIENNE,— + + "I write to you distracted and désolée. As you know your Cousin +Mathilde left me, and has gone over to America with her bridegroom. I +have struggled on in weak health and shattered nerves. My doctor says +it is imperative that I should have young cheerful society; somebody to +take some of the burden of housekeeping off my frail shoulders. With my +diminished income, I cannot keep the retainers who used to make life +easy to me. It is one long battle with old Fanchette and Pierre. They +are nearly past work, but very obstinate, and very inefficient. The +under servants come and go, they will not conform to their rules. I am +rapidly losing weight, and losing sleep. + + "When last I was over, I told both Tom and Derrick that your father +would wish you to spend as much time with me as with them. Your +education is finished. It will improve you in every way to come to me. +Your French accent is horrible. Your manners are blunt, not finished or +refined. And I have my town flat in Orleans, and there is good society +there. And finally you are my niece, and I need you. Your uncles have +each other, and have not a Château to keep up minus retainers and +means. It was a mistake your settling down with them. You ought as I +have repeatedly told you, to have come straight to me when you left +school. I was content to let them have you as long as you were a school +girl. Their monotonous country life was good for a child. But an idle +girl with nothing to occupy her hands or thoughts, needs a woman's +guidance and supervision. + + "My head is aching so much, I must lay down my pen. But now to be +practical. A very great friend of mine, Madame de Nicholas, is leaving +London on the fifteenth of this month. That will be three days after +you receive this letter. Lose no time but wire at once to her at the +Hotel Grosvenor, and tell her you will meet her at Victoria Station and +travel here with her. + + "And will you bring me from the Army and Navy Stores some of this +printed note-paper and envelopes to match. I always get mine there. + + "Tell your uncles it is imperative that I have a niece with me in my +present delicate health. I cannot be left alone any longer. + + "Your affectionate Aunt, + + "CECILY." + +Godfrey read this letter through in silence, and gave a low whistle as +he handed it back to her. + +"Well," said Adrienne, looking at him with anxious eyes, "don't you +think it is a shame of her to write to me like that?" + +"I suppose you know her better than I do. I only saw her once when she +came to stay with you two years ago, and brought her rather pretty +daughter with her." + +"Yes, that was when Mathilde told me she would marry anyone—a +hunchback, or a dwarf, or a man who broke stones in the road—to get +away from home. She told me her mother really wanted a white slave to +live with her. So, you see, Godfrey, I know what would be in store for +me if I went." + +"It's a letter of an unhappy woman," said Godfrey, looking at her with +his clear blue eyes; "and she seems to want you badly." + +"Now don't tell me I ought to go. My duty is to remain in that state of +life in which God has called me. That is in the catechism of my youth. +I am happy where I am. Why should I deliberately choose to leave my +present life for one in which I know I should be miserable?" + +"Is our own happiness the chief aim in our lives?" said the young man +slowly. "And do we really know what makes our happiness? I rather doubt +it. I thought at one time when I gave up going into the Church that I +was giving up my happiness, but I found I was not." + +Adrienne looked at him thoughtfully. She knew that from his boyhood +Godfrey's whole aim had been to take Holy Orders. He was at Oxford +when his eldest brother had died. Things were not going smoothly at +home. His father had died when his sons were quite children. His mother +knew nothing of business and had been for many years in the hands of +a dishonest agent; the estate was in a very bad way when the eldest +boy Ernest came into his property. He manfully put his shoulder to the +wheel, dismissed the agent and worked the estate himself, but just at +a critical stage, he was struck down by pneumonia and died after a few +days' illness. Lady Sutherland summoned Godfrey home, and told him it +was his duty to come back and take his brother's place. + +And after a terrible conflict in his own mind, Godfrey gave up his own +will and heart's desire, and came home to be the comfort and joy of his +mother's life. His frank sunny nature did not alter; and though many +of his college friends blamed him for having, as they said, "put his +hand to the plough and looked back," Godfrey went on his way serenely, +perhaps influencing more people by his personality as a landed +proprietor than as a parson, for he had something in his heart and soul +worth passing on, and was not ashamed to do it. + +But a few of his friends—and Adrienne was one of them—knew that the +sacrifice of his soul's desire had been a heavy one. She had always +admired his serenity and cheerfulness, as he had carried out the wishes +and whims of a rather capricious mother. And now, as she met his gaze, +the colour mounted into her cheeks. + +"You think me a selfish pig to talk or think about my own happiness. +But I can't help it. I hate being unhappy. When I was a little girl I +always did, and I remember saying to a governess who punished me for +some impertinent remark to her: + +"'If I was wrong to speak rudely to you, you're much more wrong to make +me miserable!' + +"Besides, I know your creed—it is that in making others happy, our +own happiness comes. And that's what I'm doing. I know I make my +uncles happy by living with them. We're all as jolly as we can be +together. And they want me. They've always told me so. They paid for my +schooling; my aunt never did. She was always a spoiled selfish wayward +girl. Uncle Derrick told me so." + +Adrienne spoke eagerly, but there was a pleading tone in her voice. She +added: + +"Oh, do tell me it wouldn't be right to leave the uncles!" + +Godfrey laughed. + +"I am not your Father Confessor. I wish I could advise you one way or +the other, but it wouldn't be wise. You are old enough to judge for +yourself. We must come to cross-ways in our journey when we have to +decide which path is to be ours." + +"I hate cross-ways!" exclaimed Adrienne vehemently and childishly. + +"You have been in the sunshine so long, and you have so much of it in +your heart," said Godfrey slowly, "that it does not follow you will +lose it by going into the shade for a time. Isn't it possible that you +could make the dark corner sunny?" + +"Now I know that you are on Aunt Cecily's side," said Adrienne; and +tears were not far from her eyes as she spoke. + +They were now approaching the village, which lay covered in snow, and +looked silent and deserted. As they came up to the little general shop +next the post office, a girl came out of it. She was rather taller than +Adrienne and had a fair freckled face, and reddish golden hair which +was bobbed in the modern fashion. She was clad in a rough frieze coat +and Russian boots reaching to her knees. A close green felt hat covered +her head and ears. + +She waved her hand cheerily as Godfrey and Adrienne approached her. + +"A jolly morning, eh? I'm not going to market to-day. Am trying to +dispose of three dozen eggs in the village. We never expected this +weather, and the drifts are four feet deep they say on the Newton Road." + +"Are you going home, Phemie? Wait for me," pleaded Adrienne. Then she +turned to Godfrey, who was about to leave her. + +"I came out on purpose to hunt you up, and see what you would say. +You've done me good, though you may not think it. Good-bye." + +"If this frost holds, we'll have skating on the ponds," he said. +"Anyhow, I'll see you again before you settle anything. Good-bye to you +both. How's Dick, Miss Moray?" + +"First-rate," the girl replied; "but very cross at the snow stopping +his ploughing to-day." + +The young squire with his big dog went his way. + +Adrienne went into the shop, and got her pound of nails and a few other +trifles as well. + +Then she linked her arm into that of Phemie Moray's, and the two +girls began to chat together in a light-hearted fashion. Adrienne was +her sunny self again, she cast off all thoughts of the letter in her +pocket, and listened to Phemie's humorous account of her struggles +with two belligerent cows that morning, and the arrival of a calf the +evening before. + +"I believe you are getting to love your farm life," said Adrienne +presently. + +But Phemie shook her head. + +"It is too absorbing; and you know how strenuous and strong and dogged +Mother is? Of course I know she is splendid; she is determined that +Dick shall make his farm pay, but she works us both like carthorses. +And often I ask myself, is it worth it? I've never time to read a book, +hardly a minute to mend and keep myself tidy. If it isn't the poultry +or the pigs or the cows, it is the meals and the house. Oh, how I hate +the mud that makes such work round a farm! + +"But I don't mean to grumble. And when I think of Mother and me stuck +away in dingy lodgings in a Bayswater road, and Dick, poor Dick +tramping round with his discharge papers and medals in search of work, +and coming home in the evening to eat margarine and a bit of cold +mutton, and to tell Mother once again of his non-success, I can thank +God for where he has placed us now. Mother and Dick are always blessing +Sir Godfrey for his remembrance and interest in his old war chums. And +I think that is what makes Mother so eager over it. She's so grateful +for the farm, that she wants to show Sir Godfrey he won't be the loser +by his generosity. And if pertinacity and continuous hard grinding work +will do it, we ought to make the farm a success." + +"I'm sure you will," said Adrienne cheerfully. "Everyone is saying that +your brother might be a born farmer from the way he works." + +"They don't know how much he owes to Mother. She is behind him. What +he doesn't know, she gets out of practical farm books, or out of talks +with the farmers round. She never forgets what she reads or hears. I +wish I were more like her." + +"Do you never wish yourself back in London again?" + +"Oh, often. I dream of a big legacy coming to us. And of my going back +there and taking up my life in a Kensington studio and studying art. +You don't know what cravings come over me to handle pencil and paints +again. Mother never had any sympathy with artists. She used to tell me +that they were an improvident immoral set, and she will never believe +that I could have earned my living by art. She said only one in a +hundred made their fortunes by painting, and that I would certainly +not be that one. Doesn't it seem hard that here, where I see the +wonderful sunsets over the hills, and the beautiful nooks in woods and +valleys which are crying out to be painted, I have not the leisure to +reproduce them for the benefit of others? I always say that artists are +benefactors. It is not a selfish profession. Nothing that you produce +is." + +"And now you're producing milk and butter and corn and all the +necessities of life for others by your labour," said Adrienne. "What an +idle drone I am beside you!" + +Phemie laughed merrily, then she pointed down over some fields to a +valley in the distance, lined on one side by a fringe of snow-clad +pines: + +"Isn't that a picture?" she exclaimed. "There is one thing—if I am not +allowed to make a poor attempt at reproduction, I get pictures for my +own delight and pleasure, and pictures fresh from the Hands of God." + +She soon parted with Adrienne, who went on her way thoughtfully +pondering over two round pegs in square holes—Godfrey, who had been +turned from a parson into a squire, and Phemie, who had been turned +from an artist into a farmer. + +"And they are both contented and happy," she said. "I wonder if +everyone in this world is baulked of their own desires, and I wonder, +how I wonder, whether I ought to go to Aunt Cecily or not." + + + +CHAPTER II + +AN ACCIDENT + +WHEN Adrienne reached home, she was met at the door by Drake with a +very solemn face. + +Drake was virtually the butler, but he was in reality the factotum in +the house. He valeted both the Admiral and the General; he initiated +the maids as well as the bootboy into their work, and kept his eagle +eye on every part of the house. He saw that the brasses were shining, +that the floors were well polished, that every nook and corner was +thoroughly dusted. If the cook felt ill, he could take her place at +a moment's notice, and his cooking did him credit. If horses or dogs +were ill, he doctored them; if china was broken, he could mend it. As +Adrienne leant upon Mrs. Page, so did the Admiral and General lean upon +Drake. + +Adrienne saw at once that something had happened. + +"The General has had a nasty fall, miss. He slipped just outside the +stable on a bit of ice. We've sent for the doctor. He has hurt his +knee, but I don't think it is broken. A bad sprain, I should say. We +got him up to his room, and he's on his bed." + +"Oh, Drake, how dreadful! Poor Uncle Tom!" + +She ran lightly up the stairs into the big sunny front room, which +belonged to the General. + +The next moment she was bending over her uncle tenderly. + +"That you, Adrienne? This confounded frost has knocked me over, and I'm +done for, as far as hunting this week is concerned. It was that dolt +of a stable boy!—Slopping about with his buckets, and making pools all +over the place—didn't even finish my job at the pipes out there—Have +turned Drake on to them—Why on earth hasn't that fool of a doctor +arrived? My knee is swelling up like a gas bag—smashed the knee-cap, I +should say! And it hurts like fury!" + +"You must have it bathed—a cold compress, I should say. Let me do it +for you!" + +"I won't have it touched—can't stand the pain of it—dislocated, I +should say! If it's a long job, how am I to stick it? I was never +meant to be off my feet. If this pain goes on, he must give me +gas-morphia-chloroform—what's the stuff that puts you to sleep?" + +As Adrienne was trying to soothe him, she heard the doctor's car drive +up. + +And thankfully she went to meet him. + +The Admiral and she were both a little relieved at the verdict +delivered a short time later. + +Dr. Tracy told them the knee was badly sprained, and some of the +ligaments were twisted, but that with rest and treatment it would soon +be better. + +"He will be a bad patient," he said to Adrienne; "but you and the +Admiral must keep him in bed. Try to amuse and entertain him there, and +keep him as still as possible." + +Easier said than done. General Chesterton was a very bad patient, +restless and irritable, and before that day was over Adrienne felt +utterly exhausted. In the evening, after dinner, the General had at +last gone off to sleep. Drake took up his position as head nurse in +his room, and Adrienne and her uncle Derrick sat over the fire in the +smoking-room and discussed the accident. + +"We must read aloud to him," said Adrienne cheerfully; "and I dare say +to-morrow evening he will be well enough to have his game of chess. +He's very fond of detective stories. There's one just come down from +Mudie's. And if this frost holds out, it will comfort him to feel that +he couldn't hunt in any case." + +And then, for the first time since the morning, she thought of the +letter she had received from her aunt, and felt delightfully at rest +now that she had a definite reason for not going to her. + +"Uncle Derrick," she said presently, "I got a letter from Aunt Cecily +this morning." + +"Did you? You never mentioned it." + +"No; I was keeping it from you, I am afraid. I wanted to answer it, +before I told you about it." + +"I suppose she wants you to visit her?" + +"I'll go and get the letter. I left it in the pocket of my tweed +skirt." She left the room and returned with it. + +The Admiral read it through. Once he smiled; but he looked very grave +as he handed it back to her. "We don't want to lose you, dear child. In +any case, this accident of Tom's prevents your leaving us at present. +He'll want your youth and gaiety to carry him through his days. What +parasites upon the young we older folk are!" + +"Now, Uncle Derrick, don't dare to talk like that! This is my home and +I love it, and Aunt Cecily has no claim upon me. She owns herself that +she did nothing for me when I was a child. I wanted care and attention +then, but I got it from you and not from her. Her letter makes me feel +bitter against her. I'm to go to minister to her wants. I shall have +no life of my own, but will have to be an unpaid servant in her house. +That is what Mathilde was." + +"No, no, as a daughter, it was her duty to be with her mother and help +her." + +"Well, now she can get a companion and pay her. She's very well off, is +she not?" + +"I don't think so. We wanted her to get rid of the Château years ago +when her husband died, but she would not. Indeed, I think she cannot, +under the terms of his will. It is to go to a son of her husband's. +She was the second wife, and, strangely enough, his first wife was +American, not French. She wrote to me a few weeks ago mentioning him, +and I gathered that he has lately appeared in her neighbourhood, and +she is very angry because he won't live with her in the Château." + +"Then she has somebody belonging to her? I did not know she had." + +"You must write to her at once, Adrienne. She will be expecting you. +Tell her about your uncle's accident and she will understand." + +So Adrienne moved across to the big writing-table, and there and then +composed a very nice refusal of her aunt's invitation. + +As she sealed and stamped it, she brought down her slender fist upon it +with some force. + +"There! That's my final word to her. I have suggested that she should +get a companion." + +She came across to the fire, and threw herself into the big easy-chair +opposite her uncle. + +She looked at him affectionately: + +"I believe you're missing your game of chess. Now, aren't you? Will you +let me play with you and I dare say to-morrow evening Uncle Tom will be +well enough to play himself." + +"I think we might have a game," said the Admiral with alacrity; "you +can play very well if you like, Adrienne." + +And Adrienne did, throwing her whole heart and soul into the contest, +and casting all thoughts of her aunt to the winds. + +It was only when she went to bed that she murmured to herself: + +"Fate has been kind. I am no longer hesitating between cross-ways, but +cheerfully trudging along in the sunshine, and in the path which I +love." + + +She went to visit the invalid just before breakfast the next day. She +found him irritable. + +"What kind of a night have I had? The devil of a night, and I've been +swearing like a trooper all through! That fool of a Drake snored—yes, +he snored like a bull! Out of my room he shall go to-night. He fussed +himself in, but what good did he do me? My knee feels as big as a +Christmas pudding. I wanted sleep and relief from pain. Why didn't that +young jackass give me an opiate to make me sleep? What's the weather +like?" + +"The frost still holds," said Adrienne cheerfully; "so there 'll be no +hunting, and you look in the lap of comfort with your blazing fire and +breakfast tray by your side. It won't be half bad, Uncle Tom, to be in +bed for a few days. I'll come up and read to you, and Uncle Derrick +will bring the chess-board. I'm sorry you're still in pain, but you +might have been worse—cracked your head or your spine, or broken your +jaw or your nose!" + +The General gave a grim smile. + +"You're too cheeky by half, young woman! Just ring the bell for Drake. +He might have brought me 'The Times.' Go on down to breakfast. I've had +mine, worse luck. There's nothing to do in bed but eat and sleep, and I +can't do either now." + +"I'll come and see you very soon, and tell you something. You did me a +good turn by falling down, but you'll never guess how. I'll send up the +paper." + +Adrienne left him and ran lightly downstairs. She found her uncle +Derrick waiting for her. + +"How's our invalid? Drake said he slept fairly well, but I went into +his room early this morning, and he told me a different tale. We shall +have a pretty stiff time with him." + +"Yes, but he looks well, and he has eaten a good breakfast. Of course +he is never ill, so he feels it all the more now. Will you dine at the +Hall on Thursday?" + +"I don't think so," said the Admiral slowly. + +"Will you go, and let me stay at home? You know I hate dinners. Now do, +Uncle Derrick. Lady Sutherland is very fond of you, so you must not +disappoint her." + +"And what will Godfrey say if you don't appear?" + +"It won't cause him the flutter of an eyelid. We see each other as +often as we want to. I told him about Aunt Cecily's letter to-day. Of +course he thought I ought to go." + +"He's a bit of a prig. A good parson spoiled, I always say!" + +"Oh, I won't have you call him a prig! He's not a bit. He is too +natural and unaffected to be that!" + +The Admiral smiled, and Adrienne began discussing other things. + +The day proved to be more difficult than she had anticipated. + +The Admiral, who was a J.P., had to attend some court meeting in the +neighbouring town, and he went off soon after breakfast in his closed +car, and did not return till half-past three in the afternoon. All that +time, with the exception of half an hour for lunch, Adrienne was in the +General's room. She talked, she read, she played games with him. He +would not try to sleep, and was like a child in his restlessness and +discontent. The doctor came at twelve o'clock, and offended him greatly +by some plain speaking. + +"Your pulse is good, and so is your heart; there's nothing for it but +to set your teeth and endure the discomfort and pain. Your knee is +going on very well; but if you won't keep the limb still, you'll make +it a longer job. And we must put it into a cradle. You won't like that." + +"He's a cussed jackanapes!" said the General to Adrienne when his visit +was over. + +She shook her head at him, but did not argue the point. And then she +began to tell him about her aunt's letter. That really interested him. + +"Cecily is a hypochondriac—she always has been—since her husband's +death. She ought to be ashamed of herself to write to you like that! +Don't turn a hair. Derrick and I mean to keep you with us. You surely +didn't wish to go to her?" + +"No, oh, no! But if you hadn't been ill, I might have gone to her for a +little visit!" + +"Not to be thought of! When once you're over there, you'll never get +away! I went once soon after her husband's death, but never again! +I loathe those French meals; you starve till twelve o'clock, then +overeat yourself—not with good nourishing food, but all kinds of slops +and vegetable messes. They give you cabbage-water for soup, and their +chickens are all skin and bone. And as for drink, some white wine is +Cecily's one and only! She always was a bad housekeeper, but her meals +over there are perfect cautions!" + +"How came she to marry a Frenchman?" + +"She met him in Paris. Your father was Consul there at the time, and +she went to stay with him, and got acquainted with the Count. I think +the title and Château had some weight with her. He was a nice old chap, +years older than herself, and he had been married before, and had one +son." + +"Then how is it that his son doesn't have the Château? Why does Aunt +Cecily live in it?" + +"Châteaux are not very attractive in these days. There is seldom enough +money to keep them up, and they're cold and draughty, and tumbling to +pieces. He told his father before he died that he would never live in +it. He was a keen explorer and has spent his life travelling round the +world. I believe he has come back now for a time. He owns the small +home farm, not far from the Château, where he stays. He paid us a visit +here once. It was when you were at school. Rather a bumptious young +fellow. Not a bit French! Takes after his mother, who was an American." + +Adrienne thought over this. + +"Then I suppose Aunt Cecily owns the Château, and she likes it better +than England." + +"She's more French than a genuine Frenchwoman; always liked Paris—its +ways—and its gowns! No, she'll never end her days in England!" + +Then giving a lurch in bed, he hurt his knee. Conversation was at an +end, and Adrienne needed all her patience to cheer and soothe him. + +When the Admiral returned, things were better, and she was able to get +away, and have a little time to herself. + + +But the General was in bed for a week, and when at last he could get +downstairs, it was only to hobble about with the help of a crutch. + +The frost disappeared and hunting recommenced. Adrienne had the +pleasure of exercising "Catkins," the hunter. She was a good rider, and +did not often get as much riding as she would have liked. Sir Godfrey +lent her a mount occasionally, and sometimes she would take the old +pony that did the station work and ride off across the hills to a bit +of Dartmoor. When she did this, she would take some lunch in her pocket +and be out all day. She loved solitude, and the moon had a peculiar +attraction for her. The strange thing was that, though she liked +riding, she did not care for hunting. She told her uncle she loved the +horses and the jumps, but hated the chase of the fox. Every animal's +life under the sun was precious in her eyes and nobody could argue her +out of it. + +One morning she took Catkins off to the Morays' farm on a quest of a +broody hen. She managed the poultry yard herself, and had a sitting +of ducks' eggs, but no hen to oblige her. It was a sunny morning in +February. Since the disappearance of the snow, there was distinctly a +promise of spring in the air. The catkins hung their yellow heads in +the sunshine; the sap was rising in the bare brown trees and swelling +their tiny buds; a few early primroses were in the sheltered lanes. +Bruce trotted happily along at the heels of her horse, and Adrienne +lifted up her sunny face to the blue sky, inhaling the fresh sweet air +with delight. + +Tents' Farm, as it was called, lay halfway down a sunny slope of +pasture land. The house itself was small, with stout cob walls and +thatched roof. The buildings behind it were more modern, and, in common +with all Sutherland property, in thorough good repair. There was a +small garden in front of the house. Adrienne pulled up outside the +green wooden gate and called. In a moment or two a young man opened the +porch door and came down the path. + +"Come in and have a cup of tea," he said when he had learnt her errand. +"Phemie and I are alone. Mother went off to Lufton this morning, and +hasn't got back yet. How's the General?" + +[Illustration: "Come in and have a cup of tea," he said, when he had +learnt her errand. + _Adrienne]_ _[Chapter II]_ + +"Getting on fine! Can you take Catkins? I mustn't stay long." + +Dick Moray was in corduroy breeches and an old tweed coat, but nothing +could conceal the fact that he was a gentleman by birth. He had a thin, +rather worn face, with furrows across his brows between his eyes, and +he stooped with a peculiar hunch of his shoulders, telling of chest +delicacy. He had been badly gassed in the War and had not entirely—even +now—got rid of its ill effects. + +Adrienne handed over Catkins to his charge, and as he took him round to +the stables, she made her way into the house. + +There was a small entry, and a staircase going up from it. To the left +was a door, and it was this that Adrienne opened. It led into a large +comfortable farm kitchen, but it was furnished comfortably. The floor +was tiled, and, under a window, and near the fire, were two good Indian +rugs. The oak gate-table, drawn near the fire for tea, held a silver +teapot and tray, and the china upon it was dainty, as was also the +white cloth. + +Phemie was in the act of making the tea, taking a kettle off the fire +for that purpose. There was a plain glass bookcase on one side of the +room, a writing-table in one of the casement window recesses. The +rest of the furniture, the dresser, the well-scoured table, the store +cupboard and the big open stove, all essentially belonged to a kitchen. + +"Come along, Adrienne. How nice to see you! Sit down at the table, will +you? How's the General?" + +"Much better, but oh! We've had a time!" + +"I'm sure you have. I said so to Mother the other day." + +Adrienne always enjoyed her meals at the farm. Phemie's butter was +beautiful; there was no lack of cream, and always home-made bread and +plain currant cake. + +To-day there were hot scones. + +"Just as if we expected you," said Phemie, laughing, "but I made them +for Dick as a treat. When Mother is out, we always have a good tea. +There is no one to bustle us away from the table." + +Dick here made his appearance, and sat down to enjoy both Adrienne and +his tea. + +The young people chatted gaily together. + +"You don't know of my dissipation, do you?" said Phemie. "I actually +was asked to dine at the Hall last week. To fill your place, of course. +I hardly knew myself, but Sir Godfrey came round with an invitation +from his mother, so I went. Mother was willing. I had an ancient black +dress, but I chopped off a good foot of it in length, and I happened +to have one good pair of evening-shoes. Mother lent me a pair of silk +stockings, and Dick went off and brought me a huge bunch of violets +from the florist in Lufton. Wasn't he a dear? The only part of me that +disgraced me were my hands. I used to have such nice ones, too!" + +A little sigh fell from her lips, as she spread out her reddened +work-worn hands before her. + +Adrienne smiled. + +"Nobody would notice your hands. I'm sure you looked very nice. Uncle +Derrick told me you were there. I made him go, but I could not leave +Uncle Tom. Did you enjoy yourself?" + +"I enjoyed the dinner," said Phemie honestly; "it's such a pleasure to +eat when you do not cook. And Colonel Blake took me in and was very +amusing. Some of them played Bridge and the rest of us talked. We had +no music. Sir Godfrey insisted upon walking home with me; wasn't it +good of him?" + +"No, I don't think so. He always loves an evening stroll, and so does +Tartar. I'm sure he accompanied you." + +"Oh, yes. Do you see anything new in front of you?" + +"That embossed brass jug on the chimney-piece." + +"Yes, Sir Godfrey gave it to me. He picked it out of his collection in +the smoking-room. I couldn't help admiring them. You know how I love +brass! but I never dreamt of his doing such a thing. Mother was cross. +It's always a bone of contention between us. I say that farmhouse +kitchens are always renowned for their pewter, their copper and their +brass, and that we ought to have some. We have a few pieces hidden +away in the attics. Mother won't allow me to bring them down. She says +they bring and make work, and she's not going to have to clean useless +ornaments. + +"I would willingly rise half an hour earlier or go to bed half an hour +later, to keep them bright and shining; but it's no good. They're +tabooed. So that's that!" + +"Phemie would like to turn this into an art studio if she could," Dick +said with a little chuckle. "The Mother doesn't see it, and I honestly +don't think it would work." + +"I should work much the better for having a few beautiful things to +look at," said Phemie. "I should like a picture or two on the walls, +but those again are banned by Mother." + +"Well, you do as you like in your own room," said Adrienne; "for I've +seen it, and that is where you want beauty most." + +"I'm rather with the Mother that a kitchen ought to be a kitchen," said +Dick; "but then I'm only a male, and have no artistic tendencies." + +"You lose a lot of pleasure," said Phemie, looking at her brother with +thoughtful eyes. + +"I don't go into raptures over a baby calf as you do, or see pictures +in rotten barn-doors and decaying roofs; but I do take pleasure in the +earth, and all that comes out of it, barring the weeds!" + +"Dick and Mother have things in common," said Phemie; then she tossed +up her chin, and a light came into her eyes, making her look positively +handsome; "and if my father had lived, he and I would have understood +each other. As it is, I stand alone with my father's spirit in me, +which cannot be beaten even if it is suppressed." + +There was a moment's silence. Her words were true. Her father had +loved art and was full of it to his fingers' tips, though he had never +made a name for himself. He had died at an early age, leaving only +half-finished, undeveloped paintings, and bits of sculpture behind +him. And his widow having known penury and want, and being left almost +penniless, felt bitterly towards the art that had proved so disastrous +to her husband. + +Adrienne changed the conversation. She felt that the topic was +difficult, if not dangerous, so she began telling them of her +invitation to her aunt. + +Phemie was full of interest at once. + +"But you will go to her when your uncle is better? Oh, you must. How +delightful! An old country Château. It sounds so romantic. I should +love to see the country life in France. And she is your aunt, isn't +she? Oh, I wish, I wish I were in your shoes." + +"Well," said Adrienne impulsively, "why should you not go instead of +me? Will you? She only wants a bright young companion. I will tell her +that I can send a substitute. She will welcome you. Will you do it?" + +Phemie laughed, but there was bitterness in her laugh. + +"My dear Adrienne, if the King himself wrote and offered me a position +in Buckingham Palace, do you think I could go? Would the upheaval of a +mountain move me a hair's-breadth out of my rut?" + +"Don't be a rotter!" said her brother, turning upon her. "You speak as +if you are a slave. You are of age. You could leave us to-morrow if +you chose, and you know you could. If you choose to stay here, don't +grouse!" + +"Do I grouse?" + +"No, I'll own you don't, unless Adrienne comes along." + +"Then I'd better stay away," said Adrienne with her pretty laugh. "Oh, +Phemie, you're a dear, and much too good and valuable to waste your +life on a capricious old lady like Aunt Cecily. You're the light and +sunshine of your home, you know you are. What would Dick do without +you!" + +Then they all laughed together, and the slight storm blew over. + +The opening of the front door suddenly startled them. The next moment +Mrs. Moray made her appearance. She was a tall good-looking woman with +rather a weather-beaten face, and very dark eyes which dominated and +held her auditors when she spoke. She was dressed in rough tweed coat +and skirt and a plain grey felt hat. + +"How do you do, Adrienne?" she said briskly, nodding to her as she +deposited some parcels on a side-table. + +"Dick, do you know that it's past milking-time, and Andrew won't be +back from Lufton till six as I told you." + +Dick was at the door in a moment. + +"I was just going. Good-bye, Adrienne. My respects and sympathy to your +invalid." + +Adrienne rose from her seat, and took her departure. + +Phemie was already being sent here, there, and everywhere. + +There was always a stir and a bustle when Mrs. Moray made her +appearance, and though her daughter implored her to sit down and have a +cup of tea, there seemed endless small things to do first. + +Adrienne's feeling, as she escaped, was thankfulness that she did not +live in the same house as Mrs. Moray. She went to the stables and +found her horse tied outside and ready for her. Dick appeared from the +cow-sheds and helped her to mount. + +"I always feel an idle drone when I see how you and Phemie work," she +said; "do you never get fed up with it?" + +Dick laughed. + +"We have our discontented days, Phemie and I, but I love the land. +Always have. The very smell of the earth is a tonic to me!" + +"Yes, I understand that. When I go to town, the air has no life in it. +Good-bye, Dick, and thank you." + +She rode away. For one moment Dick's eyes rested on her light graceful +figure in the saddle; then, with a short sigh, he went back to his +milking. + + + +CHAPTER III + +GODFREY SPEAKS + +IT was spring at last. The winter had been a cold and late one; now +with a rush of warm bright weather every tree and bush was waking into +life. Adrienne, with her hands full of daffodils, was filling great +bowls upon the wide window-sills. + +She was always down in the morning long before her uncles, and had been +out in the garden rifling the beds beneath the windows of their golden +treasures. + +Softly singing to herself as she arranged the flowers to her liking, +she did not hear the entrance of the General or of Drake with the +postbag. + +"Here, Adrienne, you take the cake! Five, as I'm a sinner, a budget of +circulars for Derrick, and the usual execrable bills for me!" + +General Chesterton was practically well again, but he had not been +allowed to hunt in spite of his agonized entreaties. His doctor warned +him that the slightest strain put upon his injured leg might mean +weeks of confinement again to his room. So he made the best of it, and +occupied himself by superintending the young gardener, and arranging +with him the order in which the vegetable garden was to be sown. + +Occasionally he would shout for Adrienne to come and help him over some +knotty point. She never failed him. + +Now, she held out her hands for her letters. + +"I shall never get too old to love the post," she said. "It's the one +thing that prevents monotony: one from Phemie—a recipe I wanted—one +from my dressmaker, one from May Edginton who's in Venice, a bill from +the library, and—" + +She paused, holding a letter in her hand and scrutinizing it closely. + +"Now I wonder," she went on, "who writes to me in such a small black +dashing hand. Postmark—London. It's from a man, I'm sure." + +"Women are the rummiest lot," observed the General, looking at her; +"why waste wonder and time in turning a letter over and over before you +open it?" + +Adrienne did not hear him. She had slowly opened her letter, and was +now deep in its contents. Then she looked up and sighed: + +"It's very extraordinary. I felt something would happen to-day, +something unexpected, and now this has come." + +She handed her letter over to the General, who took it, and with a +frowning brow read as follows:— + + "DEAR MISS CHESTERTON,— + + "Your aunt, my stepmother, badly wants you. Why not give her the +pleasure of your society if even for a few weeks? I expect by this time +that the circumstances which prevented your going to her a month ago +have changed. + + "I shall be returning to France on the 18th of this month and we could +travel over together. + + "Perhaps I could run down and persuade you to do this kindness for an +invalid relative. Could you put me up for a night if I did so? + + "Will this next Thursday suit you? I expect my stepmother's brothers +will be glad to hear the latest account of her. + + "Yours sincerely— + + "GUY DE BEAUDESSERT." + +"Plague take the fellow," spluttered the General; "why has he thrust +his finger into the pie? Cecily is determined to take you from us. +Here, Derrick, I'll pass it on to you. For consummate cheek give me an +American!" + +"But he isn't that exactly," protested Adrienne. "He isn't French. His +letter tells you that. He has lived in America more than in any other +country." + +The Admiral read the letter through, and then looked inquiringly at his +niece. + +"I shall have to go," she said quietly; "but only for a short visit. I +shall make that quite clear." + +"I think you will, my dear, and we must put up this young man. After +all, he is a connection of ours. Thursday is the day after to-morrow. +You had better write at once to him." + +Adrienne laughed her happy ringing laugh. + +"I don't like the feeling of coercion in this visit. He writes so +dictatorially." + +"He's a nasty, masterful fellow," said the General viciously. "I'll +give him a piece of mind when I see him. I remember when he came over +to us some years ago. He stood up to me and tried to batten me to the +ground over some international question. I told him then that age and +experience had some weight in the world, though he didn't appear to +think so." + +"I don't see how I can go off on the 18th. That is Thursday week," said +Adrienne thoughtfully; "I have several engagements, and I've promised +Lady Talbot to take the flower-stall at her Bazaar in Lufton on the +19th. Besides, if I go, I prefer to go alone to travelling with him. I +might go on the 21st." + +"It's utter rot your going at all," growled the General. "Cecily is an +octopus! She'll lay hold of you and keep you. But we can wire for you +to come back. Either Derrick or I will be alarmingly ill. Both sides +can play that game." + +"Oh, I shall come back right enough," said Adrienne reassuringly; and +then she turned her attention to the breakfast table and purposely +talked of other things. + +"I promised Godfrey to walk out to Claphanger's Farm this morning," she +said. "That dear old Mrs. Viner is very ill, and asked if I would come +to see her." + +"Take her a bottle of port," said the Admiral; "she mothered us when +we were boys. She left us when we went to school, and brought up young +Godfrey from his birth." + +"Yes, he's devoted to her. I believe she is ninety this month." + +An hour later Sir Godfrey appeared. He and Adrienne set off together, +tramped through the village, then crossed three or four fields and +finally climbed on to the moor. Both of them loved walking for +walking's sake, and there was no lack of conversation between them. + +Adrienne told him of the letter which she had received. + +"I know you think I shall be right to go, don't you?" + +"I think it's an opportunity." + +"Oh, Godfrey, your opportunities! Do you ever lose yours, I wonder, as +I do?" + +"Often," he said, smiling. "And then I have regrets and remorse, +accordingly." + +"I'm perfectly certain you never go against your conscience. Sometimes +I wish you were more human!" + +He looked a little startled. + +"But that's what I work to be," he said; "surely to fill up breaches +and gaps, and lend a hand to any needing help, is not inhuman?" + +"I'd like to see you do a really selfish thing for once in your life," +said Adrienne impetuously. + +"I'm doing one now," he responded quickly. "I have a big pile of +correspondence on my writing-table waiting to be tackled, and I've let +it go hang, because I wanted a walk with you." + +Adrienne laughed lightly. + +Then he asked, with some interest in his tone: "And does this fellow +who's written to you live at the Château?" + +"No, I think not. He comes and goes, and spends most of his time when +there at a farm near. I don't know him at all. I have never seen him." + +"Is he a married man?" + +"I don't think so. He may be. I really don't know. He has made over the +Château to my aunt. I know that. I believe he's a wanderer by nature. +He loves travelling." + +There was silence for a moment, then Godfrey said: "Adrienne, when will +you let me speak to you seriously?" + +"Oh, Godfrey, please—not yet—I don't like to say never, but I want +nothing to spoil our pleasant friendship. I don't want you to break it +into a thousand pieces!" + +"I've been waiting about two years since I last spoke to you." + +There was a hint of patient resignation in his tone. Adrienne laid her +hand softly on his coat-sleeve. "I should so love to see you become +engaged to some nice girl," she said. "You ought to marry and have a +home of your own." + +He shook his head, but did not speak. + +For a few moments they walked on in silence, then Adrienne broke it: + +"Look here, Godfrey. Let us have it out. It will be best. Do you know +what I think about you? You like grooves. You think, because we have +grown up together, that we're meant to spend our lives together. You're +accustomed to go about with me, and we're good chums, and we confide in +each other, and so you think you want me altogether; and in spite of +what you say, and what you think you feel, I don't believe you've got +the right sort of love in your heart for me, and I'm perfectly certain +I have not got it for you." + +Godfrey was so taken aback that he stood still and stared at her. + +"What kind of love are you looking for?" he asked her a little +breathlessly. + +Adrienne looked a little shamefaced and confused; then she plucked up +her courage, for she was nothing if she was not courageous. + +"I'm going to probe deeply," she said; "and if I hurt you, it's only +for your good. I know some girls are satisfied, as they may well be, by +a good man's quiet unemotional affection—well—love, as you would say. +But I'm not like that. I want to be carried off my feet, thrilled; I +want to feel that I care for nothing and nobody in the wide world but +the one who is beside me. That I would follow him to suffering or to +death with the greatest possible joy. Now do I feel that for you, and +do you truthfully feel that for me?" + +"You're so intense!" said Godfrey, flushing under his tanned skin. "I'm +not excitable by temperament; but I think my love would wear better and +endure longer than those passionate heroics." + +"I dare say they sound childish to you," said Adrienne quietly, "but I +am made that way. I cannot help it. I must be intense. I must feel to +the bottom of my heart, when realities come into my life. I'm afraid, +Godfrey, I've a turbulent soul, and I welcome storms rather than +stagnation." + +"Would life with me be stagnation?" asked Godfrey. "I thought you were +a contented soul. You enjoy your quiet life with your uncles." + +"I do—I do—And that is why I would not exchange it for another similar +one. Marriage means a big, mysterious thing to me." + +"You put me in the same category as your good uncles. Do you know you +are being rather cruel to me this morning?" + +Adrienne sighed. + +"I don't mean to be, but I feel I should like things to be quite +settled between us, and not, I fear, as you wish. I want you as a +friend, a good comrade; but I can give you nothing more than faithful +friendship, Godfrey, and I am more certain of it now than two years +ago, when you first spoke to me." + +"Is this your final and determined decision?" Godfrey asked slowly and +gravely. + +"Yes, I am afraid it is." + +And, to her annoyance, great tears rose to her eyes. + +Godfrey gave her a fleeting glance. Then he braced himself. + +"I am not going to make you sad upon such a lovely morning," he said. +"I will accept your answer like a man, and won't bother you any more. +Let us talk of other things. We won't let our friendship go; and if you +want help at any time, you know that I'll do my utmost for you." + +"You're too good for me, and that's the fact," said Adrienne ruefully; +"but I do believe that the day will come when you will feel glad that +my answer is what it is. And I'm sure there's another much nicer girl +than I, who will make you happy." + +He did not reply, and as they were now nearing the farm they began +to talk of the nurse who had been with both the Chestertons and +Sutherlands for the greater part of her life. + +No one would have thought, as they sat a little later by the old +woman's bed, that there had been such a momentous conversation between +them. + +Adrienne was always at her best when with the village folk. Godfrey's +gaze was sombre, his eyes rarely left her face, but he showed no +discomposure as he talked and even laughed with his old nurse. + +And then suddenly she turned to him: + +"Well, sir, when are you going to take yourself a wife? 'Tis what we +all expect from you." + +"You must wait a bit, Nannie; wives are not to be picked up so easily." + +"You mean you're not so easily pleased?" + +"We'll leave it at that." + +He refused to be drawn, but Adrienne felt and looked very uncomfortable. + +As they rose to go away, the old woman said: + +"'Tis good of you to come and see me. It's the weary waitin' that tries +me so sorely. If the Lord called me quickly, 'twould be so much easier; +I know I've got to go; and every day brings it nearer, but I feel at +times like David: + + "'Oh, that I had wings like a dove! For then would I fly away, and be +at rest.'" + +"You are being called very gently, Nannie. Pillow your head on this: +'Underneath are the Everlasting Arms,' and rest down here as a +foretaste of what is before you." + +Her whole face brightened, and when they were walking home Adrienne +said: + +"Oh, you ought to have gone into the Church, Godfrey. What a delightful +rector or vicar you would make! I wish I had your faith and outlook." + +"I'm not an eloquent speaker," said Godfrey with a short laugh; "I +fancy my sermons would be dry and dull, so I dare say I am best as I +am. When do you think you will be off to France?" + +"After Lady Talbot's Bazaar takes place. I think I shall go on the +21st." + +"I'll look the General up as often as I can. He's the one who will miss +you most. The Admiral is so content amongst his books." + +"And—and—" hesitated Adrienne, "shall I write and tell you how I get +on, or would you rather not hear from me?" + +Godfrey looked straight ahead of him with compressed lips. + +"We always have corresponded, haven't we? I don't want things altered, +Adrienne—not until you do." + +Adrienne was silent; but when he left her at her gate and held out his +hand, she took it and held it tightly between her own for a moment. + +"You're much, much too good for me, Godfrey. Forgive me for not wanting +your all. It's shameful of me, but it's just something in me, which I +can't control or get over. And I still have the unswerving conviction +that there's someone in the world waiting for you, someone much +nobler—much better than I." + +He shook his head as he turned away, and his walk home, and the +thoughts that accompanied it, brought him into his house with gloom in +his eyes and deep depression in his soul. + +His mother at luncheon watched him anxiously, but was too tactful to +ask him any questions. + +She knew he had been out with Adrienne, and was pretty certain that she +had again refused him. + +Lady Sutherland had known for a long time that her son's affections +were set upon Adrienne. She also knew that the girl was strangely +indifferent to him. And though she was well content that her son should +not marry at present, she resented Adrienne's lack of appreciation of +his love. + +"She will never get a better husband, socially or morally," she thought +to herself; "I really hope she will be made to suffer. If Godfrey is +not good enough for her, who will be?" + + * * * * * + +And Adrienne was shedding some miserable tears in her room before she +joined her uncles at lunch. + +"Why can't I love him? He's so deep and true and steadfast. But I +believe if he were less quiet and controlled, if he took me by storm as +it were, and showed more heat and intensity, I should yield to him." + +She could not afford much time over useless tears. Quickly she bathed +her face and went downstairs. + +The General thought what good form she was in as she chatted and +laughed and joked with him through lunch, but the Admiral always +surmised the truth when his niece was unusually animated and his quick +eyes detected the signs of trouble in her face. + +When lunch was over, the General went off to the smoking-room with his +pipe. + +Adrienne stood at the window for a moment or two, looking out upon the +sunny garden, and the Admiral joined her and, laying a hand on her +shoulder, said: + +"You're not fretting over going to France, are you, my dear?" + +Adrienne slipped her hand into his arm caressingly. "I'm trying not +to think about it," she said; "why do you have such sharp eyes, Uncle +Derrick?" + +"I hate to see you worried," was his quick response. + +"It's only—you know the old trouble—Godfrey has been coming to close +quarters again, and it's no good—I can't give him what he wants. And I +hate making him unhappy." + +The Admiral did not speak. + +"You want me to marry him, I know," she went on in a low breathless +tone; "but I'm terrified of taking such an unalterable step, feeling as +I do—or rather not feeling as he deserves I should. Sometimes I think +I have no heart. It's cold and dead as far as he is concerned. I don't +say I don't like him. I do very much—but I like him as a friend or +brother, and nothing more." + +"Well, my dear child, don't fret about it. You know your own business +best. He's an out-and-out good sort; but if he doesn't appeal to +you, don't for goodness' sake force yourself against your instinct. +Perhaps it will be just as well for you to be away from him for a bit. +Personally I think you see too much of each other." + +"I think perhaps we do. But I have really made him understand to-day +that I cannot give him the love he ought to have. He won't ask me +again, I feel sure." + +Then after a moment's silence she said: + +"Don't say anything to Uncle Tom, will you? You and I have a few +secrets together, and this must be one of them. Now I must go and write +to this stepcousin of mine. But he is no relation really, is he? Don't +you think his letter rather dictatorial?" + +The Admiral smiled. + +"He goes straight to the point and keeps to it. He's been very good to +Cecily." + +Adrienne went to her private sitting-room. It was upstairs next to her +bedroom, and was very daintily furnished. Old-fashioned chintz curtains +and chintz-covered couch and chairs brightened up the grey walls and +the soft grey carpet underfoot. A canary in a cage was singing lustily +as she entered the room. A bright fire was in the grate, and big +blue and white china bowls of daffodils and narcissus stood on the +writing-table and on the wide window-sills. + +Adrienne went over to her writing-table by the window and wrote as +follows: + + "DEAR COUNT DE BEAUDESSERT,— + + "Thank you for your letter. We shall be very pleased to see you on +Thursday for a few days, when we can do as you suggest—talk things over +together. My uncles will be very glad to hear of my aunt. I trust she +is fairly well. Will you let us know your train, so that we can send +the car to meet you. + + "Yours sincerely, + + "ADRIENNE CHESTERTON." + +"There!" she said a little triumphantly. "That will leave you in doubt +as to my intentions, which will be very good for you." + +She posted her letter and tried to think of other things. But her +anticipated visit to her aunt seemed to hang over her like a heavy +cloud. + +She always said that she was like a cat, and hated change of any sort, +and she was so happy in her home life that she did not want to leave it. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE COUNT'S ARRIVAL + +THURSDAY came. A wire had been received saying that the guest would +arrive at four, and the car had been sent for him. + +Adrienne had seen that the spare room was ready and comfortable for +him. She even put a blue jar of daffodils on the writing bureau, and +wondered, as she did so, if he would notice or appreciate them. + +Tea was brought into the drawing-room. The Admiral paced the room in +expectation of the arrival. The General was out with the dogs. + +"Don't want to see the fellow more than I can help," he said as he went +off. + +When the car arrived, the Admiral went out into the hall, and a moment +later Adrienne was shaking hands with a tall, broad-shouldered man not +in the very least like a Frenchman in voice or manner or look. He had +a clean-shaven, tanned face, startlingly clear blue eyes, and a very +determined mouth and chin. + +"We've heard about each other, sure!" he said. "But it's very pleasant +to see one another at last." + +His grip was so hearty that Adrienne winced. She smiled at his slight +Americanism. + +"I was at school when you were over here before." + +"Yes, and I was shown a photo of you in tennis costume, with long hair, +and a smile that made me want to kiss you!" + +"Will you have some tea?" + +Adrienne's tone was cool and detached, but nothing quenched Guy de +Beaudessert. He was alive to his finger-tips, and turned to the Admiral +with a flood of talk about France and her difficulties. + +Adrienne listened, and was surprised at the interest she felt in what +he was saying. + +"I'm not French, you know. I never would take my father's title. If +you haven't a position in France, you're better without it. Indeed, +you're not popular with the powers that be, if you keep up a state of +'Noblesse.' My stepmother won't understand this, but even she to the +neighbours round is simply 'Madame.' And what is the good of a handle +to your name when your house is in ruins, and your property nil?" + +"I wonder," said Adrienne a little pointedly, "that you don't live with +Aunt Cecily when you are over there. It would make her less lonely." + +"I dine with her every night and spend the evening with her," he +responded quickly, "but my visits are not long ones, and I confine my +energies wholly and unreservedly to the farm which I took over ten +years ago, and which bolsters up the estate." + +"Are times still bad?" asked the Admiral. + +"What can you expect after such a devastating War? And you know how the +franc stands." + +"I can't think why my sister persists in living out there. She would do +much better to sell the Château and come to England." + +Guy gave a little laugh and turned to Adrienne. + +"You are young and enthusiastic, I am sure," he said; "you must use +your powers of influence to induce her to leave her ruined castle." + +"No," said Adrienne perversely; "if her heart is there, why should I +try to tear her away from it?" + +Guy made no reply, but turned to the Admiral. + +"My stepmother is unfortunate in her adviser out there. He is a little +village notary, and she turns to him for everything. He's fleecing her +right and left, and she won't see it. Why don't you or the General pay +her a visit sometimes? You could do more with her than the rest of us." + +"Never!" laughed the Admiral. "Cecily has always managed us. We never +could manage her. And we're both getting old now, and are neither of us +good travellers. I should think a young and able man like yourself is +more than sufficient for her." + +They talked on for some time; and then, when tea was over, Guy strode +to the window and stood looking out. + +"An English garden," he said; "there's nothing like it in the world. +Miss Chesterton, will you take me over it?" + +"Certainly," Adrienne answered politely. + +She led the way through the hall, taking down a straw hat from the +hatstand and putting it on her head. Then they crossed the lawn +together, and wandered down the paths between the herbaceous borders in +the old walled garden. + +"When are you coming over to us?" he said, turning to her quickly. "Can +you manage to get away by the 18th?" + +"No," said Adrienne, with a little hauteur in her tone; "that date does +not suit me. I will come a few days later on. I have talked it over +with my uncles and they are willing to spare me for a month—not longer, +they say." + +"I suppose, like most old people, they're inclined to be selfish," Guy +remarked. + +"They're neither old nor selfish," said Adrienne hotly. + +Guy smiled to himself. He wanted to break the icy crust in Adrienne's +voice, and he had succeeded. + +"Excuse me, I think they are; here are two of them in a comfortable +house, waited on by efficient servants, and everything to their hand. +In France their sister lives alone, she has lost her daughter. The +times have been hard. She has lost money, ergo, she has lost good +servants, for she cannot afford to keep them. Now, as I go about the +world, I see this, that half creation is overburdened, because the +other half refuses to shoulder their portion. Here's your opportunity +to put your shoulder to the wheel, leave the burdenless ones, and ease +the big burden of loneliness and unhappiness which is bearing down your +aunt. If your uncles are unselfish, they will be willing and anxious +for you to do this." + +"And where do I come in?" asked Adrienne, trying to speak lightly. "I +seem to be but a pawn in the game." + +"We're all pawns," said Guy, "and pawns are not to be despised, for +their life is full of purpose and aim, and every step they take is a +vital one. Remember that some pawns become queens." + +Then Adrienne laughed. + +She had a delicious laugh, soft and mellow and infectious. + +"I am beset with preachers," she said; "are all young men so serious, +I wonder? You needn't pile it on, for I'm going, and my uncles are +willing that I should do so. They're such unselfish dears that they are +sparing me. As you go about the world, do you preach to everyone as you +have done to me?" + +He surprised her by joining in her laughter. + +"I always make a bee-line to my point," he said, "and you must allow +that this is a selfish age. I suppose you're not an exception to the +run of girls I've come across. 'To have a good time' is the whole aim +of their existence." + +"A moment ago it was the old who were selfish, now it is the young. +What a censorious person you are!" + +He did not answer her, but bent his head and buried his face in a mauve +lilac bush, then he straightened himself. + +"I'm not as bad as I sound," he said. "We must be friends, you and I." + +"I never shall be friends with anyone who carps and cavils at the world +in general. It is so easy to find fault with the times. Everyone does +it. It is second nature—first the weather, then this modern world! And +yet the poor old world goes on rolling, and men and women go on living. +And history repeats itself. I'm not pessimistic, and I hope I never +shall be. And I've lived with kind relatives and I've nice friends. And +nothing is wrong with the world, it is only individuals." + +Adrienne spoke hotly. There was a pink flush on her cheeks. + +"I applaud your sentiments, and I hope you will instil them into your +aunt's heart. Poor soul, she sadly needs more optimism in her outlook." + +"And now, having finished judging us all, may we talk of other things?" + +Again he laughed. + +"Are you a gardener? Who supervises this delightful spot? I am sure +brains have been at work in the choice of colours." + +"My Uncle Tom and I do it between us, but it is our dear Barton who +does the actual work. We potter round in the evenings, taking up a few +weeds here and there. Is there a garden at the Château?" + +"There used to be. I think something could be made of it now, but there +is no one with a head to do it—or hands either, for the matter of +that. You'll see your aunt's staff and will, I expect, marvel at their +industry as I do. The country villages in the out-of-way provinces in +France have still the feudal system of retainers who grow up round +the Château and consider they are part and parcel of it. It is out of +date and all wrong from the socialist point of view, but it's rather +pathetic. We have nothing like it in America, and I guess it's fast +vanishing out of England!" + +"What do you call yourself? French or American?" asked Adrienne, +standing still and regarding him with a flash of amusement in her +pretty grey eyes. + +"I'm a mongrel, nothing more or less. You'll be able to tell me in a +few weeks' time which country I favour most." + +"I think," said Adrienne rather slowly, "that I should do better if I +were to time my visit to my aunt when yours ends. She can't need me so +much when you are there as when she is quite alone." + +"She mustn't ever be alone again," was his quick response. "It has +been nearly disastrous for her nerves as it is—these months since her +daughter has left her! You don't realize how imperative it is that she +should have companionship." + +"No, I don't," said Adrienne quietly; "there are so many widows who +live their lives alone. I feel sorry for them, but they have had a good +time, and if I were to like moralizing as you do, I should say that +good and bad times are the lot of us all. Even the flowers require +shade as well as sunshine. Aunt Cecily is no worse off than hundreds +of other women. I know several widows in our neighbourhood, but they +manage to exist, and love managing their husband's properties." + +They had made their round of the garden by this time, and Adrienne +led the way back to the house. She found it impossible to suppress or +to silence Guy de Beaudessert. He talked again about loneliness and +depression. + +"I know what destructive forces they are. I have seen it out in the +Bush and on ranches in the Rockies. I've experienced it myself, and if +it can be eased or prevented in any way, for God's sake, I say it must +be done." + +He had quite silenced Adrienne by the time they had reached the house. +She felt as if her aunt's circumstances must rule her life, and was +unusually thoughtful for the rest of the day. + +At dinner the guest was the chief speaker; he talked well, and his +range of experience was wide. There seemed hardly a country which he +had not visited. + +"How can you hope to benefit any faction of the human race which is +outside your own orbit, unless you have visited and lived in it until +you understood the views and aims of the individuals therein? I take up +the papers and read the rot that is talked in Parliament on Imperial +interests. Every politician who seeks to benefit his country ought to +travel round for at least five years. Then his sentiments and advice +would be worth listening to. And, mind you, this delegate business is +worse than useless. Let them go on their own, and rough it like our +pioneers. Then they would get to the heart of things, not a scratch on +the veneered surface whilst being regaled by sumptuous banquets, and +driven in luxury to see the city from a Rolls-Royce." + +"You sound rather like these infernal Socialists and Radicals," +spluttered forth the General. + +"Oh, no, Uncle Tom," said Adrienne; "it is they who go round in cars, +and overeat themselves at banquets." + +"The question of £ s. d. doesn't enter your head," said the General; +"we would all like to travel and see the world, but it can't be done on +nothing." + +"Oh," laughed Guy; "go as a stowaway—a stoker—a steward—but go, and get +your mind broadened, and don't think the world begins and ends with the +Trinity of the British Isles." + +"Rot, my dear fellow, rot!" exclaimed the General. "Britain is good +enough for me. Rolling stones may roll round the globe, but they'll +gather no moss; and will only fill themselves to repletion with +self-glorification and—dashed cocksureness!" + +Adrienne's laugh rang out merrily. + +"You and Uncle Derrick have both been about on the other side of the +globe, Uncle Tom, so don't pretend you haven't. I am the only stay at +home. But if I visited every country in the world, I know I should come +back and say that England was the brightest and best of them all." + +"Well, well," said the peace-loving Admiral, "we will admit that some +of our rulers would be the better for practical knowledge outside our +Empire, but travellers are not infallible. Their outlook is sometimes +biased by the company in which they have found themselves." + +The General subsided, but he had a way of glaring at Guy that tickled +Adrienne's sense of humour. After dinner she got hold of him. + +"You're like a turkey-cock, my dear," she said to him; "you wait till +the first word comes out of this young man's mouth, and then you try to +gobble him up. And it isn't a bit of good wasting your ammunition on +him. He's impervious to every insult you can offer him." + +"Dash it all, I don't want to insult him. I think it's the other +way about. But I won't swallow my country being blackened. And for +consummate impudence give me an American, and that a young one." + +"He doesn't seem young to me. He's done so much and seen so much. But I +own I'd like to see him crushed by someone. I'm sure he never has been, +and I am afraid never will be." + +Yet shortly after, when Guy sat himself down to the piano and began to +play, without music, some of the compositions of the old masters and +then drifted into Chopin and Grieg, his exquisite touch and soulful +rendering of some of the most beautiful passages brought tears to her +eyes and a thrill to her heart. + +Adrienne was very susceptible to music. She whispered to her Uncle Tom: + +"He is an angel, after all! He has an angel's soul!" + +And the General was rude enough to give a loud guffaw, which he stifled +with a cough, and then left the room precipitately. + +"Oh," cried Adrienne, when Guy rose from the piano, "I'd like to listen +to you all night." + +He smiled and gave her a little bow in French fashion. "Thank you, but +your uncles have had too much of it. I like the organ best. There is +one in the hall of the Château. Your aunt likes to listen sometimes. +Don't you play yourself?" + +"Not much." + +"She sings," said the Admiral. "Sit down and sing, my child." + +So Adrienne obeyed. She sang a song which Guy had never heard before; +and if his music had thrilled her, her voice now thrilled him. + +The joyous vibration in it, the sweetness of tone, and pathos, rang on +in his ears for hours afterwards: + + "Give as the morning that flows out of heaven: + Give as the waves when their channel is riven; + Give, as the free air and sunshine are given— + Lavishly, utterly, carelessly give I + Not the faint sparks of thy hearth ever glowing, + Not a pale bud from the June roses blowing; + Give as He gave thee, who gave thee to live! + Pour out thy love like the rush of a river + Wasting its waters for ever and ever, + Through the burnt sands that reward not the giver! + Silent or songful, thou nearest the sea. + Scatter thy life as the summer showers pouring! + What if no bird through the pearl rain is soaring, + What if no blossom looks upward adoring! + Look to the life that was lavished for thee." ¹ + + ¹ By R. T. Cooke. + +There was silence for a few moments after her last note had died away, +then the Admiral said: + +"I like the sentiment of that song, my dear. Where did you get it?" + +"Godfrey gave it to me, one day after he had been talking to me for my +good!" + +Here she stole a glance at Guy, and there was something mischievous in +her glance. + +"You haven't the monopoly of preaching," she said. + +"Ah," he said, "if you can sing like that, you must feel like it, and I +have no fears for the future." + +Then he turned to the Admiral. + +"Can I catch an early train back to town to-morrow morning?" he asked. + +"Why, certainly. There is the ten o'clock express. But won't you stay +with us another day?" + +"I'm afraid not." + +Then his clear bright eyes looked straight at Adrienne,—"into her +soul," she told her uncle afterwards. + +"My mission is fulfilled," he said, "and when I accomplish my purpose, +I waste no time." + +"Don't delude yourself," said Adrienne lightly; "nothing has been +altered because of your visit. I had settled with my uncles that I +should go over to my aunt. It was all arranged." + +The Admiral looked at her reproachfully. + +"My dear," he said, "be courteous. I feel deeply indebted to Count de +Beaudessert for his interest in my sister, and for his loving thought +and care of her. It is very good of him to have come down to us on her +behalf." + +"Please drop the Count!" said the young man. "But thank you, sir, for +your kind words. I don't get many of them." + +Adrienne looked a little ashamed of herself. For the rest of his stay +she was sweetness itself. + +When he shook hands with her the next morning, he kept her hand in his +for the fraction of a moment: + +"It is only 'au revoir,' and we part friends, do we not? I am forgiven +for my audacious interference, for my dictatorial, dogmatic speeches?" + +Adrienne smiled up into his face. + +"If only you would not try to be so masterful, I think I should get to +like you," she said. + +He dropped her hand. + +"If I was a genuine Frenchy," he said, "I would raise your hand to my +lips. We are both, in spite of national prejudices, going to like each +other very much." + +And then he got into the car awaiting him, and the General, overhearing +his words, ejaculated: + +"Insufferable puppy!" + + + +CHAPTER V + +AT THE CHÂTEAU + +IT was towards the end of a lovely afternoon in May that Adrienne +arrived at her destination. Both her uncles had accompanied her to +town, and seen her off in the boat express to Dover. She had a quick, +smooth passage across the Channel, then a long train journey to +Paris, where she stayed for the night at a comfortable English hotel +recommended by friends. She did a little sight-seeing in the morning, +and then took the train on to Orleans. Here a car was waiting for her. +The chauffeur, who could speak broken English, explained matters: + +"Monsieur, he mean to come hisself, but at last minute he called away—a +terrible accident happen to Jean Lucien, he be the fermier—and Monsieur +he drive him to hospital all quickly, and not return in time. And +Madame he tell myself to come." + +Adrienne stepped into the car, and as she drove along the smooth, +straight roads with their rows of poplar trees on either side, and +noted the small patches of cultivated land, with the peasants tilling +their ground, and the women and children busy hoeing and weeding in the +bright sunshine, she felt that England was already very far away. A +spasm of home-sickness crept into her heart, and then she laughed at it. + +"Why, I was breakfasting at home yesterday—it is too ridiculous of me. +It takes no time to get here, and I can go back when I like." + +She repeated these last words very emphatically, and found comfort +in doing so. They rushed through villages, and climbed hills between +woods of young, freshly planted trees. Finally they slowed down in a +quaint little village with a green, and a big pump in the middle of it +round which was a little group of idle men. There was a small church +on a rising knoll outside the village, and then they came to some +beautifully wrought iron gates between two tall grey stone pillars. The +gates were open, and they glided up an avenue of chestnut trees now in +full bloom. + +At intervals there were great stone vases and blue wooden seats, then +they rounded a curve and the Château was in sight. In the mellow +afternoon sunshine Adrienne admired it. It was a grey stone building +with a deep blue slated roof; long, narrow windows were on either side +of a very handsome front door under a stone portico. A flat stone +terrace ran along the whole length of the Château. A fountain was +playing into a marble basin at one end of it. Statuettes of boys and +nymphs adorned the low stone wall that edged the terrace. There was an +untidy piece of park surrounding the Château, cows were grazing in it. +The trees were few in number, but there was an old walled garden behind +the house, and quite a long line of stables and outbuildings. There +appeared to be no flowers, but some young orange and myrtle trees were +in blue painted tubs just outside the front door. + +Before Adrienne had had time to pull the heavy iron bell-handle, the +door was opened, and an old white-haired butler appeared, bowing low +before her. + +"Is Madame at home?" Adrienne asked in her best French. + +He led the way without a word across a dark polished parquetry floor, +then up a broad shallow flight of stone steps along a wide corridor +which contained some rather shabby settees ranged against the walls, +one or two gilt tables, and some good oil paintings hanging from a +highly decorated ceiling. + +Pierre, the old manservant, threw open a beautifully carved mahogany +door halfway down the corridor, and Adrienne was in the presence of her +aunt. + +She was a small slight woman with pale golden hair, and a pathetically +sad-looking face. She was dressed in black, and had a black lace +mantilla wound round her head and neck. Adrienne thought that she +looked more youthful than ever, but she was well over sixty years of +age. She carried herself well, and her face was rouged and powdered. +She had very pretty, delicate hands and used them in talking, as a +Frenchwoman would have done. + +"At last!" she exclaimed, as she drew Adrienne forwards by both her +hands, and imprinted two dainty kisses upon each cheek in turn. + +"I thought I should never get you! How you have grown and—yes—improved. +You were no beauty as a child, but you give promise of it now—a little +too rosy perhaps for good breeding, but it is your outdoor country +life. And how are the brothers? As inseparable as ever? Now come and +sit down. Pierre, we will have tea; tell Louis and Gaston to take +Mademoiselle's luggage to her room." + +The last sentence was said in French. Adrienne glanced around her. It +was a long, narrow salon furnished mainly in Louis Quatorze style; +the floor was polished till it shone like a mirror, but dust lay on +pictures and ornaments, and the decoration of the room was very shabby. +There was a bright wood fire burning, and Adrienne was glad of it, for +the room seemed to her damp and unused. + +She discovered later that her aunt never sat in it when she was alone. +The Countess motioned to her to sit down upon a faded blue satin couch; +and if Adrienne's bright young eyes were taking in her environment, her +aunt's sharp eyes were taking in her niece. + +In her neat dark blue travelling suit, with her blue velvet hat pushed +well down on her shapely little head, Adrienne would have passed muster +in Paris. + +Tired she was, but not so tired that she could not talk very pleasantly +to her aunt till the tea arrived. + +A small silver tray with a very big silver teapot and fragile china +cups was placed on a little table in front of her aunt. A few sweet +biscuits on a plate was the accompaniment to the tea, which Adrienne +found weak and tasteless. But it was hot, and Pierre served it, as if +it were the choicest champagne. + +The Countess asked her numberless questions about herself and her +uncles, and then suddenly she pushed away her cup of tea from her, and +produced her handkerchief. Burying her face in it, she began to sob: + +"Oh, I am miserable, lonely, forlorn! Since my child has left me so +heartlessly, I have suffered terribly. No one in the neighbourhood to +understand or comfort me. My brothers and you refusing to come to me! +And this great big old house going to pieces, and the winter with the +rain and snow and darkness, and poor little me sitting up waiting, +waiting for life to smile on me again, and always waiting in vain." + +"Poor Aunt Cecily," said Adrienne softly. "If I were you, I would sell +this old Château, and come to England and be happy in a charming little +English cottage near your friends and relations. Why should you live in +a foreign country away from us all?" + +The Countess put down her handkerchief, and her eyes sparkled with an +angry light in them: + +"English cottage! Me, at my age, in my position! You ignorant, foolish +girl, do you think for a moment that I would leave my husband's home +and property? Do you think, after forty years of French life and +Parisian society, I could settle down in an English village, with its +mud, and dull stolid unsociability?" + +"But we live in the country, Aunt Cecily, and we have many nice friends +round us, and our village looks as well cared for as this. And we are +never dull or lonely." + +"Oh, bah! I have seen your life and it is not mine, nor ever will be. +You will like to go to your room. Pierre will take you. We dine at +eight o'clock." + +Adrienne felt that she had blundered, and was being dismissed. + +Pierre was summoned, and took her up another flight of stone stairs. +Adrienne felt already that the old Château with its scent of polish +and wood fires, its mellow atmosphere, and dignified antiquity was +beginning to fascinate and hold her. + +Her room was large and comfortable, with an expanse of dark shining +parquetry floor, some soft rugs, and a very large state bed. Faded +green satin damask curtains and hangings, a very handsome couch and +writing-table, and several easy-chairs completed its furnishing; her +washstand with its accessories was in a little closet adjoining the +room: four big French windows open to the floor, looked out upon the +park, and some woods on a rising hill, not very far from the house. + +She found her luggage already there, and a stout, middle-aged peasant +woman appeared, asking her if she could help her. She soon discovered +that the Château was run by one family of the name of Tricard. Pierre +and his wife Fanchette ruled over all supreme. She was cook, their +daughter Annette was general housemaid, her husband was gardener, their +young daughter helped in the kitchen, and two sons waited at table, +polished the floors, and helped their mother about the house. + +"We have always served the De Beaudesserts for two generations," +Annette told Adrienne, as she helped her to unpack her things; "but my +mother remembers the time when the Château was full of great ladies and +gentlemen, and there were five or six waiting men." + +Then she insisted upon showing Adrienne the best state bedroom. She +pulled off the coverings of the furniture, and smiled complacently when +Adrienne expressed her admiration of it. The bed was a magnificent +erection, gilt and blue paint and a gilded coronet over the head of +it; it had blue satin hangings and curtains with gilt fringes. The +sofas and easy-chairs and spindle-legged tables were all gilt and blue. +Annette showed Adrienne a real lace coverlet which was laid over a blue +satin one for the bed, and blue satin cushions with the same old lace +upon them. The room was panelled in blue satin with gilt decorations. +There were cabinets in it, but they were empty. The priceless china +that used to be in them had all been sold, but there were some +beautiful old paintings on the walls. Five large French windows looked +out upon the old park. + +"Royalty has slept in that bed," said Annette in an awed whisper. +"Queen Marie Antoinette stayed here for three days once." + +"How interesting!" said Adrienne enthusiastically. + +She lingered in the room, trying to realize bits of the past, but +Annette hurried her back to her own room. + +"Madame is proud of her guest-chamber, but she will not show it to +tourists. The Marquise in Château Divant is obliged by Government to +let the public come through her Park and Château every Wednesday during +the summer. But our Château is not so old as hers, nor so historic." + +Adrienne returned to her room and went to the windows when she was +left alone. There was sunshine streaming over the opposite hills, and +lighting up the fresh green in the woods. The air was soft and sweet, +and she drew in a long breath of it with content. + +"It is very quiet, very sweet here," she thought. "I shall enjoy +staying here for a time." + +She slipped into a pale blue filmy dress, and then made her way +downstairs. For a moment she hesitated as she came to the salon door, +then she passed it, and made her way out into the garden at the back of +the Château through an open door and down a flight of stone steps. Here +she found herself in an old walled garden, with wisteria falling over +the walls, pear and apple trees in full blossom, and two long untidy +borders of spring flowers on either side of the vegetables. There were +paths with box-hedge borders; in one shady corner was a clump of lilies +of the valley. But she noticed that, though the vegetables looked well +cared for, the flowers were utterly neglected, and she longed to get +down on her knees and weed. + +Then, as she came to a blue painted door at the bottom of the garden, +she slipped the bolt, and found herself facing a grassy path between +trees. It was an entrance into the wood. She wandered along it, +rejoicing in the fresh green above and around her. Presently she came +to a seat, and from here, looking back, she had a good view of the +Château and village. + +The quaint blue roofs, the grey wood of the houses, the scent of wood +fires, and the tinkle of bells as the oxen passed along the lanes with +their loads delighted her artistic soul. It was all so different from +England! Dreamily she gazed around her, oblivious of time, and then +horses' hoofs roused her. A rider was coming through the wood, and as +she looked, she recognized Guy de Beaudessert. + +He dismounted directly he saw her, and held out his hand. + +"I thought it was a wood nymph. Have you found your way here already? +Sorry I couldn't meet you, but business prevented me. I'm on my way to +the stables. The farm isn't good enough for my Estelle. What do you +think of her?" + +Adrienne looked at the glossy chestnut with a smile, and noted her +proud and spirited bearing. + +"I think she's a darling!" she said enthusiastically. "And I'm +fascinated with it all here. It's so—so romantic!" + +He smiled, then took a sharp turn in the woods. + +"Don't follow me," he said, "or you may be late for dinner, and that is +displeasing to Madame. I shall be the culprit to-day. Ask her not to +wait for me." + +So Adrienne returned the same way as she had come, and, as she entered +the house, Pierre was clanging a great bell in the hall. + +Her aunt was waiting for her in the salon. She frowned when she +received Guy's message. + +"He is so oblivious of my wishes. He always has been. He knows, in my +delicate state of health, that punctuality of meals is most essential. +I expect he thinks that now you are here, he is no longer necessary to +me. Come, my dear, we will go in at once." + +She slipped her hand into Adrienne's arm, and leant upon her heavily. +They entered the dining-room, a rather gloomy room with painted ceiling +and walls. A long refectory table in the centre and chairs surrounding +it were all that was in it. The many windows were draped heavily with +faded rose damask hangings. A huge cut-glass chandelier hung from the +ceiling, and in this, were a number of lighted candles. + +The meal commenced. Pierre waited deftly, though his steps and +movements were very slow. His old hands shook as he handled the dishes, +and Adrienne felt a great pity for him, as she noticed how old and +frail he was. Her aunt talked, but it was chiefly about her delicate +state of health. Adrienne tried to interest her in her uncles' pursuits +at home, but the Countess seemed to be purely indifferent to their +existence. Soup, an omelette, and chicken with salad had already been +served before Guy appeared. + +Adrienne drew an inward breath of relief as she saw him. + +He seemed so full of life and energy, that he changed the gloomy +atmosphere at once. + +"So sorry, ma mère? But you have heard of Jean's accident. I have been +with him; his arm will be saved, the doctor hopes, so I took the good +news to his wife. It was terribly mangled; he tripped and caught it in +the mowing machine." + +"Do not give us any terrible details," said the Countess quickly; "you +know I cannot bear any horrors. Did you cash my cheque for me at the +Bank?" + +Guy looked across the table at his stepmother with a slight smile, then +shook his head. + +Adrienne saw a look of dismay in her aunt's eyes. But she said nothing. + +Then he turned to her: "Do you ride? I expect you do." + +"I love it," said Adrienne, with glowing eyes. + +"Then we will have some rides together. I have two horses. Sultan is +quiet, and not quite heavy enough for me. Have you a side-saddle on the +place, ma mère?" + +"No," said the Countess quickly, "you must not forget, Guy, that +Adrienne came over here to be a companion to me." + +He nodded at her reassuringly. + +"None of us mean to forget that fact, but she must have exercise, and +in the early morning before you are awake, she and I will have rides +through the lanes. We want her to become enamoured with our country, do +we not? I think she is smitten with it already." + +"The novelty of it is pleasant," said Adrienne a little cautiously. + +"But," said the Countess with rising colour, and a little frown between +her brows, "you will not have the ordering of my niece's days, Guy; it +is I, her aunt, who will do that. You are too fond of arranging and +ordering and willing this or that." + +Guy's face was perfectly imperturbable. + +"Then you," he said with a little bow towards her, "will order your +niece to ride in the early mornings for her good, and I will help her +to carry out your wishes." + +Adrienne's delicious little laugh rang out; she could not help it. + +"I hope I shall be tractable under this discipline," she said. "I +shan't forget that I have come here to cheer you up, Aunt Cecily. I am +sure we shall not quarrel over that." + +Her aunt's frown gradually disappeared. + +Guy began giving Adrienne a description of the village and the +neighbourhood round. + +"We are just a small community here," he said, "who know all about each +other's virtues and vices and discuss them lengthily when our days are +dull and time hangs heavily on our hands. + +"Madame ma mère, of course, is the centre, and the past glories of our +Château and the present decay is a never-ending topic of conversation. +The Curé comes next. He is a mild little man, very fond of his flock, +very conscientious in his duties, very wide in his charity. I always +feel a better man after I have had a talk with him." + +"He wants too much," put in the Countess fretfully; "he seems to think +I have bottomless gold chests from which I can give and give and give, +whenever there is a birth or wedding or funeral." + +"The next in importance," continued Guy, "is our notary, a very small +man with a big head, and a bigger idea of his own importance than +anyone round him has. He has a wife who is what we call in America a +climber. She looks to end her days as mistress of a Château. I hope it +won't be this one. By the way, ma mère, is it true that you have sold +the fishing to him? I knew the shooting was his, that was done last +autumn; but I was hoping to get some good trout here." + +Adrienne could not help noticing the extreme uneasiness which the +Countess showed during this speech. Her hands trembled visibly, as she +peeled some fruit upon her plate. + +"How else do you expect me to live?" she said in quavering tones. "It +is a struggle to exist. My doctor's bills must be paid." + +"Yes—yes—well—where was I? We'll dismiss the notary. He is clever; he +lives by squeezing others; he is getting rich. The village folk regard +him with awe. They love their Curé, they fear their notary. Who can I +describe next? The doctor lives five miles away, he does not belong to +the village. Ma mère will tell you all about him, she knows him better +than any of us. Oh, I must tell you of little Agatha." + +His voice softened, the rather amused curl of his lips disappeared. + +"Agatha—I believe she will be calendered one day. To me she is amongst +the saints already. You must go and see her, Cousin Adrienne. She lives +with her cheery, hard-working sister in a little house at the top of +a green knoll outside the village. I always wonder at such a suitable +position being their home. But it was their home before Agatha was +born. Her father was a chemist by profession, and also a scholar. You +climb if you go to see Agatha, physically and mentally. She is a modern +Joan of Arc, without her fiery enthusiasm, but she lives in the unseen, +and has her visions." + +"She sounds awfully interesting," said Adrienne. + +The Countess shrugged her shoulders. + +"The peasants are superstitious; they regard a sick girl as a seer and +mystic. She fosters their credulity and poses as a saint." + +"We will pass on," said Guy in his cool way, "to Nicholas Bruce the +good-tempered blacksmith, to André Gaugy the talkative backbiter and +tailor, to stolid Ambrose Hellier with his placid wife and sixteen +children under fifteen, and who makes his cows and goats support +them all, to Jacques Smuré our drunkard, and Anton Guyère our gloomy +cobbler, and Gaspard Pont our newsmonger the postman. + +"There are twenty-five families in all, living round us. I see ma mère +is impatient! She will doubtless describe our outside neighbours better +than I can." + +The Countess was already rising from her seat, and Adrienne followed +her back to the salon. + +Candles were lighted in it now. The wood fire was blazing cheerfully. +Adrienne drew up a chair close to it, and her aunt lay back in a deep +cushioned chair opposite her. + +"Guy is strangely indifferent to good society," the Countess said with +a sigh; "he seems quite happy gossiping with the farmers and peasants. +I cannot get him to accompany me to any bridge parties or tennis or +tea. He hates my flat in Orleans, and wants me to give it up. As if I +could vegetate in this place all the winter!" + +She began talking to Adrienne about her great friend Madame Nicholas, +a rich widow, who lived about a couple of miles away in a very large +villa, of the Marquise de Pompagny, who had two pretty daughters and a +son, and of several other friends in the vicinity of the Château. + +And then a little later Guy joined them. + +It was Adrienne who suggested that he should play to them. + +They went out into the hall, but the Countess found it chilly, and +retired to her chair by the fire. They left the salon door open for her +to hear. Adrienne sat down on a couch under one of the windows, which +were now shuttered up for the night. The organ was at the farther end +of the hall, and worked by water power. In the dusk there, with only +the dim lights of candles above the organ seat, Adrienne let Guy's +enchanted music steal through her soul. He played on, aware that one of +his listeners at least could appreciate his performance. + +The Countess appeared at last. + +"It is getting very dull for me; I am feeling tired. I think I shall go +to bed, and I am sure that Adrienne ought to do so. We will wish you +good night, Guy." + +Guy was off his stool at once. + +"Good night, ma mère. I think you and I must have a little business +talk to-morrow. Can you give me half an hour before déjeuner? No? Then +what hour will suit you? It is about the cheque. At five, then? I will +come round at five. I shall be in Orleans to-morrow morning. I have to +go there about farming business. Now, Cousin Adrienne, explore inside +and out of the Château, and make friends with everybody. Then you will +feel quite at home." + +When Adrienne laid her head upon her pillow a little later, she said to +herself: + +"Courage! It is not so bad as I feared. In spite of Aunt Cecily, I +believe I am going to be happy here." + + + +CHAPTER VI + +HER AUNT'S CONFIDENCES + +SUCH a lovely morning! Adrienne got up and threw open her windows and +shutters. Annette brought her coffee and petit pain at eight o'clock, +and told her that Madame would like to see her at ten. + +Adrienne lay in her comfortable bed, and looked out upon the flowering +chestnuts, and at the tiny village clustering round the church on the +green knoll. She heard the bells of the oxen as they passed along +the lanes, and the scent of the lilacs close to the house was wafted +upwards to her. + +She wondered what her uncles were doing, and how they would like having +breakfast alone together. + +And then her thoughts focused themselves upon her aunt. + +She began to see that this French home of hers might have a fascination +for her, and would make it difficult for her to leave it. + +"I could be happy here myself," Adrienne murmured to herself, "if only +the uncles were with me. I wonder if I could get them to come over, and +see it. I might say I would not come back unless they came to fetch me!" + +She dawdled over her dressing, then sat down at her writing-table and +commenced a long letter to her uncles. She heard an outside clock +strike ten, and, shutting up her writing-case, she made her way to her +aunt's room. + +The Countess's room was more English in its furniture than any other +part of the Château. She had pretty chintz curtains and covers for +her couches and chairs, photos and knickknacks were in profusion upon +tables and cabinets. Madame herself, in a blue satin tea-gown with a +boudoir cap, was sitting in an easy-chair by the open window. + +She looked older in the morning light, and the fretful lines in her +face were more discernible. + +"Don't kiss me," she said; "I am not too fond of it at any time. Have +you slept well? Ah! You have youth and strength, both of which I have +lost!" + +"Yes, I have slept splendidly, and feel ready for anything," Adrienne +said brightly. + +Then Madame began to give her a list of things she wanted her to +do—things which her daughter had always done, and which had suffered +since her departure. + +The salon was to be dusted carefully, and the china in the corridor; +flowers could be gathered from the garden. Fanchette was to be +interviewed; and if anything were wanted from the village, would she +see to it? Also, would she get the salads and vegetables from the +garden? Louis or Gaston would accompany her, but they were not to be +trusted to do it alone. Would she do a little gardening round the +house? There were seeds to be sown, and weeding to be done. It was too +much for Jacques, as he was cutting the grass in the big meadow for the +cows. Would she return to the house before eleven to assist Madame in +the last stages of her toilet. Déjeuner was at half-past eleven. + +Adrienne saw that her morning would be fully occupied, but she went +off cheerfully at once to her duties, and very soon Madame heard her +singing in the gardens. + +At eleven o'clock she was back in Madame's room, helping her arrange +her hair, and tidying up generally. And while she was so employed, she +was hearing for the twentieth time an account of all Madame's illnesses +since her husband's death. The one person who was sincerely appreciated +by her aunt was her doctor, Monsieur Caillot. He came to see her pretty +frequently. Monsieur Bouverie was mentioned with bated breath. + +"If he comes here, my dear, you must be very, very polite and +pleasant. He is a little man, but he is a great power here; his wife +is my abomination, but I dare not quarrel with her. I will tell you +all my troubles one day. I feel sometimes like a tangled ball of +silk—impossible, quite impossible to be disentangled and unknotted! +Monsieur pulls here and there, but for a little smooth bit, there +appears more knots and tangles to come. Ah! It's a weary world for a +forlorn and lonely woman!" + +"I should think," said Adrienne tentatively, "that Cousin Guy is a very +good one for disentangling tangles." + +Madame threw up her hands: + +"Ah! No! He is an American, hard and keen and implacable! Everything +with him is black or white. No mellowing greys, no misty uncertainties. +He terrifies me; though I am his stepmother, I am afraid of him. He +bends everyone to his will. He is a mass of steel and iron, and does +not possess a heart." + +"Oh, Aunt Cecily, think of his music! A man with such music at his +fingers' end must possess feeling!" + +"Tut! Tut! Music is an accomplishment. He is clever. He takes after +his father in that. My dear Philippe—ah!" Out came the scented +handkerchief; tears began to fall. + +Then Adrienne listened to a long account of her Uncle Philippe's +perfections. She was relieved when the bell sounded for déjeuner. + +It was a long meal, but her aunt talked incessantly, and Adrienne +vainly tried to get her away from herself. + +After it was over, Adrienne accompanied her back to her room, made her +comfortable for her afternoon siesta, and was given a quantity of old +lace to mend. + +"We have tea at four, and then we will walk for a little in the garden +or wood." + +Adrienne took her lace into the garden. The sun was so hot that she +looked about for a shady nook, and found it under a chestnut tree just +below the terrace. Here on a seat she got out her work-basket, and here +it was that an hour later Guy found her. + +His eyes rested upon her with satisfaction. + +"You have very quickly fitted yourself into your niche here," he said, +as he drew up a lounge chair and seated himself in it. "Well, how do +you find your aunt? Win her confidence if you can. I have failed to do +so." + +"She is afraid of you," said Adrienne, regarding him with frank steady +eyes; "I wonder why?" + +His eyes met hers for an instant, with a glint of sternness in them, +then they softened and a sparkle of amusement shone in them. + +"I am always reading between the lines, and discovering more than I am +meant to discover," he said; "ma mère does not like her defences to be +pierced." + +"Perhaps you do it triumphantly," said Adrienne; "nobody likes to be +triumphed over." + +"Would you like to come and see your steed?" he asked, waiving the +subject. + +Adrienne rose at once. + +"I should love to," she said, "but how and when I am to ride is the +problem." + +"In the early morning," he responded; "as early as you like. Six, seven +or eight. Will either of those hours suit you?" + +Adrienne smiled. + +"Yes. Make it seven. I feel that time will be mine. But will you be +able to come with me? I am quite accustomed to ride about alone." + +"I want to show you our country. I will bring the horses round at seven +to-morrow morning." + +They arrived at the stables; Adrienne was introduced to Sultan, a +coal-black horse, with a coat like satin, and a gentle chastened mien. +He lifted his head and looked at Adrienne with two rather sad and weary +eyes. She caressed his nose, and he lifted his head, and pricked his +ears when he felt the touch of her soft fingers. + +Then Guy called out for Gaston, who was groom as well as house-boy, and +a brand-new lady's saddle was produced. + +Adrienne protested: + +"You have bought this new for me?" + +"I saw it in Orleans this morning," said Guy. + +Then he busied himself with it; and when Sultan was satisfactorily +adorned with it, Adrienne was invited to mount. + +She rode round the yard and out into the paddock, and was delighted +with Sultan's smooth, easy paces. + +"He has been a good horse in his time," said Guy; "you won't be too +hard on him. And for gentle exercise you won't beat him." + +Then, looking at her watch, Adrienne found it was just four. + +"I must go," she said; "are you coming in for a cup of tea?" + +He shook his head. + +"I shall be ready for your aunt in the library at five," he said. "That +is our business-room; have you seen it? No? Then come now, I will show +it to you. It used to be a hall of justice, and the ceiling is worth +looking at." + +They returned to the house; he took her to the end of the hall up +a few steps along a corridor, and then opened the door into a big +panelled room with beautifully carved ceiling. The coat of arms of the +Beaudesserts was carved over the great mantelpiece. A long table with +an imposing-looking carved chair at the head of it was in the centre +of the room. The walls were lined with books behind glass doors. In +a corner of the room was a big writing-table, covered with books and +papers, and it was in this corner that Guy seated himself when Adrienne +had duly admired the ceiling and the room. + +She left him there, and went upstairs to her aunt. + +Tea was brought to them in her boudoir adjoining her bedroom. + +She made a little moue, when Adrienne mentioned Guy. + +"Oh, yes, I have to be called over the coals by him, my perfect +irreproachable prig of a stepson! But as to any help or assistance, it +is useless to expect it of him." + +"He always speaks so sympathetically of you," said Adrienne, feeling +she must defend the absent one. + +"Oh, là!" + +Madame shrugged her shoulders in French fashion, and Adrienne said no +more. + + +It was with very slow steps that Madame descended the stairs to the +library. + +"I shall not be long. We will go for a little walk; will you put out my +hat and coat for me? You will find them in my wardrobe." + +But it was three-quarters of an hour before Madame joined her again, +and when she did so, Adrienne saw at once that she had been crying. + +"He is an inquisitor, my stepson," she said angrily to Adrienne; "he +questions and cross-examines, and ferrets out every minute detail that +I would keep to myself. But we will not talk of him; we will take the +air." + +They walked in the grounds of the Château, afterwards had a quiet +dinner together, and then in the salon, over their bright wood fire, +Madame suddenly made a confidante of Adrienne. She poured out in +a torrent of talk all her trials and money troubles, and Adrienne +listened and tried to advise and comfort. Monsieur Bouverie, the +notary, figured largely in the background. + +"What can a woman do without a man to assist her? Monsieur Bouverie +manages all for me. He is like an agent as well as a lawyer; he knows +the ins and outs of all my husband's estate; he comes to me for +necessary repairs. Guy is angry because he says that the new fences I +have paid for on paper are not in existence; he says I ought to walk +round and see that the repairs I pay for are done. How can I? Then +he wants me to give up my pretty fiat in Orleans. I am there most +of the winter. I entertain, and enjoy myself. How could I stagnate +here through the snow? Monsieur Bouverie has helped me pay my bills +again and again. He has taken the shooting, he rents it, also the +fishing—and—but promise me you will not tell Guy this. I was in such +straits a few years ago—I am very fond of Bridge, but I had been +unlucky, and could not find the ready money to pay my debts, and there +were many bills that were pressing from Orleans tradesmen, you know, so +I borrowed money from Monsieur Bouverie and he has taken the Château as +security." + +"Does that mean you have mortgaged it?" asked Adrienne. + +"Well, yes—but I must have ready money." + +"I thought the Château belonged to Guy, and that you were only living +here for your lifetime?" + +"Oh, some years ago, he presented it to me as a deed of gift. He does +not care about it. He is not married; it is not as if he has a son to +succeed." + +"But he may marry; he may have children." + +"My dear Adrienne, I cannot plan and live for the future. I have been +cheated and taken in on all sides; I have had no income to speak of, +and Monsieur Bouverie has been my mainstay through these difficult +years." + +"I wonder if he is quite honest." + +Adrienne's frank comment displeased her aunt. + +"My dear, he is my man of business; he has invested for me; he pays my +bills; he does all he can to help and support me. He has helped me in +selling the old china and some of the old plate—I was forced to part +with them. I have been living from hand to mouth. Guy is very angry +because my account is overdrawn at the Bank. How can I help it? I have +not enough to live upon. The last time he was over, he put me straight +and left me something to go on with. I hoped he would do it this time. +He must. After all, I am his father's widow." + +"Is he very wealthy himself?" + +"I do not know, he is so secretive; his hobby over here is the farm—he +makes it pay, I believe, but he is not civil to Monsieur Bouverie; they +look at each other like angry dogs. I dread them meeting. The thing I +am worried about now is, that I am not able to pay Monsieur Bouverie +his interest. How can I do so? I can barely make my income feed myself +and the servants, and he dropped a hint the other day, or rather she +did—she's an atrocious woman—she hinted that they would soon take +possession here. It is this that troubles me. Her one ambition is to +own a Château and she eggs her husband on. It would kill me if I had to +leave this. It has wound itself round my heart." + +"I should tell Cousin Guy the whole thing," advised Adrienne. "He is a +strong man. Leave him to deal with this lawyer of yours." + +"No, no, I could not. He must never know it. He does not know things +are so serious. He would blame me for it." + +Adrienne sighed. It seemed hopeless to comfort her aunt. And she could +not understand her. At one moment she would talk as if ruin were close +to her; at another, of all the gaieties and amusements she hoped to +enjoy, when she returned to Orleans for the winter. + +"You must stay on with me, and come with me to Orleans. There will be +young people there and plenty of gaiety. I stay here in the summer for +my health; I get patched up for my festivities in the winter." + +When Adrienne eventually got to bed, she felt as if this day had been +the longest in her life. Her aunt's confidences had depressed and tired +her. But sleep came to her, and with it refreshment and rest. + + +When the morning dawned, she faced life once more with courage and +cheerfulness. + +She had her coffee early, and at seven was down on the terrace in her +riding habit which she fortunately had brought with her. + +Guy was there with the two horses. He mounted her, and then they rode +off in the fresh morning air. + +He took her through the village, up a steep lane, under flowering +limes, and then they came to some green turf beside the pine woods upon +which they had a good canter. + +Adrienne's pink colour and sparkling eyes showed how much she enjoyed +it. + +And presently they began to talk about her aunt. + +"Have you won her confidence yet?" he asked her. + +"Not entirely," said Adrienne; "I cannot understand many things. She +seems to have plenty of money and yet is always in difficulties." + +"I want you to help her," said Guy earnestly; "you are young and happy, +get her to be interested in the simple things of life. As regards +money, she has a way of letting it filter through her fingers; her flat +in Orleans costs her more for six months than a year's sojourn here. +And Bouverie is quietly, determinedly and systematically robbing her. I +have come to her rescue more than once, but I'm going on another tack +now. I'm allowing him enough rope to hang himself." + +"I wonder how much you know," said Adrienne, looking at him +thoughtfully. + +"More than you do," he retorted pleasantly. + +Adrienne was silent. + +"Broaden her outlook. Get her interested in others. What did your song +say: + + "'Give as the fresh air, and sunshine are given, + Lavishly, utterly, carelessly give.' + +"You can give her so much and she has so little." + +"But you are quite mistaken in me," said Adrienne. "I have nothing +worth passing on." + +"You must make little Agatha's acquaintance," he said; "she will show +you what can be done. All of us who come in contact with Agatha are +strengthened, and bucked up to do, and to give. You're meant to be one +of the givers in life; you show it in your face." + +Adrienne laughed. + +"What do I show?" she asked. + +"Sunshine," he replied tersely. + +"I've always been so happy," Adrienne said almost apologetically; "but +then my circumstances have been bright. If I were Aunt Cecily, I dare +say I should be quite as miserable, for I'm perfectly certain I should +cling to this old Château as she does. I think it's quite enchanting. I +love every bit of it—the waxed floors, the wood fires, the big spacious +rooms; the blue shutters, and windows down to the floor, and the mellow +colour of its wood and decorations. And outside it the chestnut avenue +and the gardens and the wood, and the darling little village! It all +bewitches me. I long to be able to spend money on it, and give Aunt +Cecily a happy old age in it." + +"You and I will work to do the last bit; but unless our good notary +departs this life, the spending money on it will be a problem." + +Then he pointed to a distant Château, and began to give her some +historic reminiscences of the part through which they were riding. + +When later they were returning through the village, he showed her the +little white house in which Agatha lived. + +"I will introduce you to her one day. She's altered my whole view of +life. She did it three years ago when I was home. I was hopeless, was +surrounded by a maze of intricate obstacles and intrigues, and was just +about washing my hands of the whole concern, and going off to the wilds +again, when I struck against her." + +"How wonderful she must be!" said Adrienne. + +"You've only to be with her for half an hour to feel her power—or," +he added in a low voice, "the Power that dwells with her. That's what +she considers it. You wouldn't imagine a little peasant girl in an +out-of-way village like this could have any influence on men, would +you? Yet I've seen the biggest blackguard in the place on his knees +before her, and her little hands laid softly on his head. And not only +has he been reduced to tears, but sent off to the Curé, and then to +make restitution to the one he has wronged." + +They had reached the Château; then, as she was dismounting, Adrienne +said: + +"I wonder if Aunt Cecily rides? It is such a good receipt for the +dumps. And if she doesn't ride, isn't there a carriage for her?" + +"There's an old pony chaise in the coach-house, I believe. Get her out +and about by all means." + +Adrienne found plenty to employ her hands that morning, but she sang as +she worked, and met her aunt with a sunny face. The Countess scouted +the idea of driving out in the pony chaise. + +"I hire the car from the inn when I need it—the one that met you at +the station. I ought to have one of my own, of course. Madame Bouverie +rolls about in her Daimler, but it is the lower classes who ride now. +We walk. I have asked my friend Madame Nicholas to tea this afternoon. +We will have it on the terrace." + +"I hope I shan't disgrace you by my French," said Adrienne. + +"Oh, she understands and speaks English; she is much in England, for a +sister of hers lives there." + +Madame Nicholas arrived at half-past three. She was a handsome, +vivacious little woman, and the Countess visibly brightened when +talking to her. Not knowing the neighbours round, Adrienne did not +feel much interested in the conversation, for it was entirely about +them, and their sayings and doings. She poured out tea for her aunt +instead of Pierre, who was thankful to be spared the task, and let +her gaze wander over the tree-tops in the distance. Her thoughts were +in England, when she suddenly heard an ejaculation from her aunt, and +looking up saw a smart car gliding up the avenue. + +"It is that hateful woman; she has seen us. We cannot get away." + +In another moment Pierre was conducting a very stout, short woman along +the terrace to them. She was dressed in the extreme fashion of the +moment. Very tight short skirts from which two enormously fat legs in +flesh-coloured stockings appeared. Her shoes with their tiny heels and +big buckles seemed unable to contain her feet. Her hat was very small, +her face very big, and Adrienne felt a feeling of distaste sweep over +her as she saw her. + +But her face radiated with cheerful good humour. + +"Ah, Madame," she said, taking the Countess's hand in hers as if she +were her dearest friend, "how delighted I am to see you look so well +and charmante. And is this your English niece? I have come to make her +acquaintance. I said to Henri that I must be one of the first to pay my +respects to our English visitor. And how do you like us, Mademoiselle? +Do you not find our Château enchanting?" + +She waved her hand at the old building as she spoke. + +For a moment her fluent French made Adrienne a little shy of airing her +own. The Countess and her friend resumed their seats. + +Madame Nicholas had only given a stiff little bow to the new-comer, +which was returned with an air of affable condescension by the +notary's wife. Then Madame Nicholas and the Countess went on talking +confidentially to one another, whilst Adrienne was left to entertain +Madame Bouverie, who with raised voice made every word of hers audible +to the two elder ladies. + +"You must come and see my flowers. Your poor aunt has not health to +garden, and every true gardener knows that it cannot be left to village +men or boys. They know all about vegetables, but flowers—bah! They +serve them cruelly. If I had this garden—" she gazed over the terrace +with a greedy look in her eyes—"I would make a perfect dream of it. Can +you not see glowing beds of scarlet and white in front of us, and vases +with drooping pink and mauve, and long winding borders of every colour +under the sun?" + +Then Adrienne said rather naughtily: + +"But I love the cows under the shady trees, and the buttercups and the +flowering grass. I think they are so restful and pastoral." + +Madame Bouverie shrugged her shoulders. + +"And how do you find your dear aunt? We tell her she ought not to +shut herself up so, it is so bad for her nerves; she should spend +more time in Orleans, and only come here for the very hot weather. +There is really, entre nous, no society here, a few old fossils, who +from pecuniary reasons cannot leave their tumbledown places, and just +vegetate with the cows and goats." + +Madame Nicholas was rising to go. She took an affectionate leave of the +Countess, then turned to Adrienne, asking her the next day to come with +her aunt "pour passer l'après midi avec moi." + +And Adrienne, after a quick glance towards her aunt, accepted the +invitation with her pretty grace. + +Before Madame Nicholas had passed out of hearing, Madame Bouverie's +shrill voice made itself heard: + +"Now, Madame, we can be happy together; I have something good and +confidential to tell you. My husband is following me to bring you the +good news. Is your niece in your confidence, may I ask? She looks so +sweet and sympathetic I am sure she must be." + +Adrienne had made a movement as if she were going to leave her aunt +alone with her visitor, but the Countess signed to her to remain. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE LOSS OF AN HEIRLOOM + +THE poor Countess was now ill at ease; she reminded Adrienne of a mouse +under the fascination of the playful taps of a cat's paws. + +Then Madame Bouverie proceeded to give her good news: + +"A rich American, a client of my husband's, is anxious to give his +daughter, an only child, a little souvenir of his visit to Orleans. +He wants something antique, historic, with perhaps a little romance +attaching to it. He does not mind how much he gives, and we thought, +dear friend, of your great need, and cast our mind on your many +treasures. Suddenly I bethought myself of your beautiful watch set in +diamonds—the enamel one given to your family by Queen Marie Antoinette. +It is a rare chance; you will never have such another." + +The Countess straightened herself in her chair: + +"But, Madame," she said stiffly, "I told you that was an heirloom, not +to be taken out of the family. I have no desire, no power to sell that. +I told you so when you wished yourself to buy it from me." + +"Oh, dear Madame, you have the power. Who can prevent you? Not your +stepson? To me he seems an amiable young man quite absorbed in his +farm, and indifferent to you and your Château. Well, well—I see my +husband coming up the drive, he will talk to you about it. It will +smooth out all your difficulties if you consent to part with it. Now, +Mademoiselle, shall we take a little walk together round the garden, +and leave these two to talk over business matters?" + +Monsieur Bouverie had arrived. Adrienne was prepared to dislike him, +but as his dark, piercing eyes met hers, she felt a slight shiver down +her spine. + +He reminded her of a snake's head lifted to strike. Though a smile +was upon his lips, unhidden under his very slight dark moustache, his +eyes seemed to hold both malice and power in them. He bowed as he was +introduced to her, but his eyes lingered—Adrienne felt he was asking +himself this question: + +"Will this girl help me or hinder me?" + +And she suddenly resolved there and then that, with all her might, she +would fight against him. + +She felt herself drawn away by his wife. She had no trouble in talking +to her, for Madame Bouverie held the conversation in her own hands, +and Adrienne found herself listening, with an occasional assent or +exclamation. + +"My poor husband! He is so devoted to your aunt's interests, and it is +so sad about her circumstances! No money to keep up the Château, and +the repairs and expenses of the property eating her out of house and +home! If it had not been for my husband, long, long ago the Château +would have been in the market to sell. He is so clever, so generous to +his clients, and he has such an affection for the family, that he would +sacrifice himself in their service. + +"Do you know the young Count? So different to his father. Such a +silent, uncouth creature—so little to say! Of course, he likewise has +no money; he seems unable to relieve your aunt. She is such a dear, +helpless, irresponsible creature! She always has been. My husband puts +into her hand money that he has scraped together with the greatest +difficulty, rents from the tenants, sums by sales of timber and +pasture, and by his economy in every direction. It would last most +people quite a long time, but dear little Madame lets it flutter here, +there, and everywhere; she is always in debt, but nothing deters her +from buying. Has she shown you her wardrobe of Paris gowns? All too +grand for this poor village, but kept for her time in Orleans. And when +my husband comes next time, the money is all gone! And the poor lady +wringing her hands in despair! + +"But we will not fill your young head with such dismal talk. I wonder +now if you could take me into the Château. I do so enjoy looking at the +pictures in the upper corridor." + +Adrienne accordingly piloted her into the house. As she went upstairs, +she pointed out to Adrienne improvements that might be made. + +"I should have a fountain and marble floor in the entrance hall, and +red felt carpet down this cold stone staircase. Ah well! Perhaps one +day this old Château will fall into the hands of those who can spend +upon it! It will be a happy thing for us when that occurs." + +She was darting from side to side of the corridor by this time, looking +at the old cabinets, touching the velvet hanging to the windows, then +she paused beneath the portrait of a former Count de Beaudessert in +hunting dress with a falcon on his hand. + +"Oh!" she said. "An artist who was staying here long ago told my +husband that this picture was worth a fortune. It is one of Van Dyck's. +Rather like the present Count, is it not?" + +Adrienne glanced up at the handsome broad-shouldered man smiling down +upon them with lordly condescension. + +"No, I don't think it is at all like Cousin Guy," she said. "He is +simpler, straighter, and not such a society man as this Count must have +been." + +"Oh, you funny girl! I quite agree that the Count is not a society man. +Well, well, I must go! I am glad to have had a look at him again. I +dote upon good pictures; but then, though I do not paint myself, I am +an artist by nature." + +As they were retracing their steps, they met the Countess coming +hastily out of her boudoir. She looked surprised at seeing them, +and Adrienne explained matters, but her aunt said nothing. She was +evidently uneasy and frightened. + +Madame Bouverie occupied Adrienne's time and attention, till her +husband had finished his talk with Madame, and then they both took +their leave and rolled away in their car, Madame Bouverie with pleased +elation in her eyes. Adrienne guessed, without her aunt telling her, +that the valuable old watch had changed its owner. Of course she was +told all about it very soon, and the Countess cried like a child. + +"It is no good, my chérie," she said, "what can I do? The bailiffs will +be in possession unless I pay some of my bills. This watch will bring +me a nice little sum. Two hundred and fifty pounds in English money is +not to be despised." + +"Have you got the money?" Adrienne could not refrain from asking. + +"Oh, no, no, but in a few days I shall receive it. My dear, I think +we could take the car to Orleans and do a little shopping. I want to +call at my flat, and you would like to see the old town, would you +not? We will give ourselves some pleasure. A little ready money is so +acceptable in these bad times." + +"I wish you need not have parted with the watch," said Adrienne. + +"Yes, I refused absolutely at first, but somehow Monsieur Bouverie +always persuades me against my will. When he is looking at me and +talking in his pleasant, smiling way, I feel absolutely in his power. +And he does reason things out so. And it is very true that Guy does +not care about these things, and as Monsieur Bouverie says—for whom +am I keeping them? When I die, they will be sold in a sale for mere +bagatelles!" + +Adrienne was silent; she felt that things were going wrong, but that +she was unable to right them. And she had a longing desire that her +cousin might know about this latest exploit of Monsieur Bouverie's. + +She was not surprised in a few days' time, when she came into her +aunt's room, to find her once more in tears. + +"Oh, my dear, such a disappointment! Monsieur Bouverie has only sent me +a hundred francs for that watch!" + +"What a villain he must be!" ejaculated Adrienne. + +"No, no, he has explained it all. It appears that the big account for +repairing one of our small farms was overlooked. I certainly thought +I had paid it; but my memory is not good, and I forget so. And the +builder is pressing for the money, and Monsieur Bouverie has settled +it up, and this hundred francs is the balance left. Of course, he +congratulates me upon having this heavy bill settled, but I really had +forgotten its existence; and it seems that I have lost my watch, and +am no richer than I was. I fear our little visit to Orleans must be +given up, unless—well—I will speak to Guy about it. He dines here this +evening. Oh, what a miserable thing it is to be so poor!" + +"Never mind Aunt Cecily. I am quite happy here. I don't want to go to +Orleans. I love the country at this time of year." + +"But not if it rains, as it is doing now," said her aunt, looking out +at the rain which was driving against the windows; "it has kept us in +now three days, and prevented us from going to Madame Nicholas." + +"We'll have a game of 'Colorado' together," said Adrienne cheerfully. + +She was an adept at games from "Chess" to "Snap." She had even tried +to entice her aunt into the billiard-room, which was an unused, dreary +apartment, but this the Countess had firmly declined to enter. She did +not mind an occasional game of any sort, but "Bridge" was her hobby, +and she could not very often get the requisite number for it. + +Adrienne's sunny temper and habitual cheerfulness was having a good +effect upon her; she was altering her sedentary life, and was really +taking an interest in the garden. Adrienne was making many improvements +to the flower part of it, digging and weeding and planting; and the +Countess looked on at first with some amusement, and then with dawning +interest. + +The days did not seem so long now with this bright young niece, and it +was only after a visit from the notary, that she was plunged into tears +and depression. + +Upon this particular evening they had a very bright dinner table. +Adrienne began telling her aunt about her Uncle Tom's aversions to wet +days, and the guiles and wiles with which she beset him to keep him +happy. Guy was reminiscent too, and his experiences in an old Indian +bungalow during the monsoon made Adrienne very merry. + +When they adjourned to the salon they gathered round the wood fire, and +then the Countess said to her stepson: + +"I want Adrienne to see Orleans; she would like to see it too. Only for +a few days; don't you think it could be managed? We ought to let her +see something of our country. Of course it is a question of expense—but +it would not cost much for a short time." + +"I think we can manage it," said Guy, smiling across at Adrienne. + +The girl's cheeks flushed. + +"Oh, no," she cried, "I am content with this, Aunt Cecily. I will not +put you to any extra expense. It would make me miserable." + +"Not at all," said Guy cheerfully; "your aunt has plenty of ready money +at present. It is a good opportunity." + +The Countess looked at him with startled eyes: + +"What do you mean?" she said falteringly. "You are quite mistaken." + +"What?" he said, and his voice was a little stern. "Did you give away +our watch, ma mère? I can hardly believe that much." + +The Countess's hands trembled. She fidgeted with her watch-chain, then +looked across at Adrienne reproachfully. + +Adrienne spoke at once: + +"I have never told him, Aunt Cecily. Believe me, I have not. I think he +must be a wizard." + +"It is a pity, ma mère, you do not take me a little more into your +confidence, for I could assuredly prevent a good deal of robbery going +on. Now will you kindly tell me how much you received for that, one of +our most precious heirlooms?" + +The Countess's ready tears rose to her eyes. + +"Tell him all, Adrienne. I cannot. I am always in the position of a +convicted naughty child." + +So Adrienne, with her frank, sweet eyes fixed on Guy's imperturbable +face, gave a short account of the shabby transaction. + +And when she had finished, the Countess sobbed out: + +"A hundred francs, only a hundred francs!" Guy produced a notebook and +pencil from his pocket in a business-like manner. + +"Have you the receipt from this builder which Monsieur Bouverie has +paid?" he asked the Countess. + +She shook her head. + +"He keeps the bills; he does all my accounts, Guy: I have told you so, +again and again." + +"Do you know if it is La Firmant Farm which he mentioned?" + +"Yes." + +Guy dotted it down and replaced his notebook in his pocket. + +Then he gave a little smile. + +"I walked into Bouverie's study to-day. It opens into their salon, as +you know. He kept me waiting, and I just happened to glance up at the +sun shining in there, and it caught the diamonds. The watch has already +been hung up above the fireplace in a place of honour. I can fancy what +a pleasure it is to Madame Bouverie." + +"But," cried the Countess, "it was an American who bought it. Don't +tell me that Madame Bouverie is keeping it for herself?" + +"She has got it for a hundred francs," said Guy gravely; "I do not +think, ma mère, that it is good to give away our heirlooms in such a +manner." + +"What abominable thieves!" cried Adrienne. "Oh, Cousin Guy, I hope you +are going to get it back." + +He shook his head. + +"I never interfere with your aunt's proceedings. If I did, it would +only return again to the Bouveries later on." + +There was a dead silence. + +The poor Countess was white with horror and agitation. + +"To think that he should have dared to deceive me so! And she, she +has robbed me! I could bear anything rather than this! Don't look at +me like that, Guy! I didn't want to part with it, but you will never +understand how hard pressed I am." + +"I think I could, if you were to tell me," suggested Guy quietly. + +But the Countess began to sob bitterly, and Adrienne knew that nothing +would induce her to be perfectly frank with her stepson. + +At last she was so overcome with anger and misery that she said she +would retire to bed. + +Adrienne accompanied her, and when she had helped her with her toilette +and seen her comfortably in bed, she went back to the salon for a book +which she had left there. To her surprise she found Guy still sitting +by the fire, apparently lost in thought. He looked up when she came in, +then got up from his chair. + +"Well, I must be going. Your pauvre tante," he said with a tender note +in his tone. "She is her own worst enemy, did she but know it." + +"Oh," said Adrienne passionately, "we must do something, Cousin Guy. +You seem half asleep, quite indifferent to the frauds of this wicked +little man. I'd like to tell you something, but I have promised not. +Aunt Cecily must be freed somehow from his clutches." + +"I again repeat that you can tell me little that I do not know. I +suppose you are alluding to the mortgage he holds of this place, and of +his resolve to foreclose as soon as possible." + +"You know, then? How did you discover it? You are quite wonderful." + +Guy very slowly and deliberately drew out a pocketbook from his coat +pocket. + +"Here," he said, "are about twenty pages of his frauds, as you call +them. I have them all verified. I have spared no trouble or time in the +doing of it. The watch is the last item." + +"But oh, if you know, can't you relieve Aunt Cecily's mind? Is there no +way of paying up the mortgage?" + +"Your aunt is what we may term difficile. Were I to pay off the +mortgage to-day, and settle all her debts, she'd have a glorious time +of contracting new ones, and of borrowing on the security of the +Château afresh to-morrow. I honestly think that no one in this wide +world could keep her out of debt. She's made that way. She can't help +it." + +"It seems awful to me. Her brothers would be horrified. Poor Aunt +Cecily. I do feel so sorry for her. Are you going to let the Château +slip away from her?" + +"Ah! That requires consideration. Sometimes I think it would be best, +for she would then settle down in her town flat and have no notary +plaguing her life out." + +"But that would be allowing the wicked to prosper on stolen gains!" +said Adrienne passionately. "And if you won't stop him, I will. I feel +inclined to go off to his house at once, and confront Madame Bouverie. +She said in my presence that the watch was for an American. I suppose +that that bill for the farm had been already paid?" + +Guy turned over the pages. + +"At all events he had the money to settle it, as long ago as last +November. I have the date and the amount." + +"But you mean to bring him to account, surely?" + +"Yes, sooner or later I think I shall." + +Then he smiled at her. + +"Justice is always slow," he said; "don't be impatient. I have learnt +that to make haste means mistakes, and mistakes spell failure." + +Then Adrienne smiled up at him. Relief and a sense of confidence in him +crept into her heart. + +"Good night," she said; "now I shan't have a flutter of despondency or +fear for Aunt Cecily's future." + +She left the room, and slept peacefully that night. + +Her aunt was also sleeping from sheer exhaustion. + +Guy was the only one who till the small hours of the night was pacing +his room in the farm. + +But strangely enough his thoughts were not centred upon his stepmother +nor upon her business affairs, but wholly and entirely upon Adrienne. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +LITTLE AGATHA + +ADRIENNE was taking a walk through the village. Guy had gone to Paris +for a few days on business. The Countess was in the deepest depths of +despondency. Adrienne found it quite impossible to cheer her up; she +refused to leave her room, said she was ill, and her favourite doctor +was in attendance upon her. + +Adrienne had interviewed him before she started for her walk. + +"No, Mademoiselle," he assured her in fluent French; "there is nothing +serious in your aunt's indisposition, except that at no time is her +heart very strong, and she seems to be agitating herself unnecessarily +over trifles; her mind is acting upon her body, and she cannot sleep. +I have given her a sedative, and told her to rest for a few days, and +then you will see her up and about again." + +So Adrienne, feeling that she herself needed both air and exercise, +had come away from the Château. The fresh breeze blowing down from the +hills fanned her cheeks, and brought a sparkle to her eyes. She began +going over in her mind the events of the last few days. Guy had come to +wish his aunt good-bye before he departed for Paris. She had alluded +again to the old watch. + +"Can't you get it back for me?" she had asked Guy fretfully, and he had +made answer: + +"Ma mère, it is easy to throw pebbles into the sea; it is difficult +to fish them up again. I would suggest that you throw away no more +pebbles." + +Then fixing her with his eye almost sternly, he had said: + +"You have lost a good many things out of the Château. And it is your +own concern; but you have lost more than you have gained. There is one +heirloom that I must beg you do not meddle with. And that is Van Dyck's +portrait of my great-grandfather. That belongs to me, as you know. I +have an affection for it, and I will not have it grace the salon walls +in Monsieur Bouverie's house!" + +"You are very unkind," the Countess had sobbed, and she had parted with +her stepson in an injured state of mind. + +He had hardly left the village before the little notary arrived for a +"business interview." + +This had been a very long one, and so far, Adrienne had not been given +any particulars of what had transpired in it. + +The Countess had taken to her bed immediately afterwards, and though +Adrienne had waited upon her most assiduously, she would no longer +confide in her; only lay in bed propped up on satin cushions in the +daintiest of boudoir caps and tea jackets, declaring that life was over +for her, and that death would be welcome at any moment. + +"I'm afraid," Adrienne acknowledged to herself, "that I am not equal +to the emergency. And the task of keeping Aunt Cecily's spirits up is +too much for my own. I don't believe anyone in the world could make her +happy!" + +As she mused in this despondent way, she happened to glance up, and she +saw she was passing the little white house on the knoll outside the +village. + +A sudden impulse seized her. + +"I will go and see this little Agatha, who seems to be a kind of modern +saint. I dare say she may drive away my dumps." + +So she made her way to the whitewashed cottage with the green shutters, +and opened the little green wooden gate which led into a very pretty +flower garden. Here she found Marie Berthod, a woman with a round, +smiling face. She was seated just outside the door with a bowl in her +lap, preparing vegetables for the midday pottage, but she welcomed +Adrienne at once. + +"You will be the English demoiselle at the Château. We have watched you +ride past in the early hours. Come in. I will take you to my little +sister. We wondered if we should have the pleasure of a visit from you." + +She took her straight into a tidy little kitchen; and from thence into +another room leading out of it. In this room was a big couch by the +open window. + +Adrienne's first impression was of great purity, great restfulness, and +great peace. The room was whitewashed. All the furniture, which was of +the simplest description, was painted white. Two big pictures hung on +the opposite walls. One of Christ as a tiny boy upon His mother's knee; +two other children gambolling on the grass at His feet were holding +out flowers which they had plucked. His tiny hands were outstretched +to take, but also they seemed in the act of blessing them. It was a +wonderfully beautiful picture, and when Adrienne looked at it later, +she was lost in admiration. + +The other picture was of Christ weeping over Jerusalem; the city down +below and the walls and pinnacles of the temple were touched with the +golden rays of the setting sun. His Figure was in the shadow of a tree +above Him, but just one ray of sun was shining upon His Face, and the +tender love and longing in His Eyes was depicted by a masterly brush. + +Underneath was written just these words: + +"Et vous ne voulez pas!" + +But for the moment Adrienne did not notice these pictures. Her eyes +were upon the couch, and upon little Agatha. + +She lay there, a tiny childlike figure, clad in a white woollen gown. +Her bright brown hair was twisted like a coronet round her small head. +Her face was very pale; she had delicate features, but determined chin, +a broad brow and immense dark blue eyes fringed with black lashes. It +was her eyes that held and dominated the froward, that melted into +tenderness the most obdurate and hardened, that glowed always with a +burning fervour. Her lips were sensitive and sweet. Her hands were +clasped round a brown leather book with brass edges, and when Adrienne +entered, she was gazing out of her open window to the grassy pasture +land in front of her. On a small table by her side was a big bowl of +wild flowers. + +"Here is Mademoiselle, Agatha, come to see us at last," said Marie in +her cheery tone; then, drawing a wooden chair close to the couch, she +offered it to Adrienne, and left the room. + +[Illustration: "Here is Mademoiselle, Agatha, come to see us at last," +said Marie in her cheery tone. + _Adrienne]_ _[Chapter VIII]_ + +Adrienne bent over the invalid, who took hold of both her hands, and +held them silently in hers, whilst her great eyes regarded her with +grave tenderness. + +"Ah," she said in a very sweet voice, "you must forgive me for my +eagerness. I always want to see people's souls." + +"But can you?" asked Adrienne with a smile, meeting Agatha's intent +gaze with great equanimity. + +"Not always, not entirely; but I see further in than most people do. +It makes me understand them so much better; it gives me knowledge and +sympathy." + +Then she let Adrienne's hands slip out of her grasp. + +As she held her, Adrienne had a strange feeling, as if an electric +current were running into her from the gentle tenacious grip of those +little white hands. + +When she seated herself she said: + +"I would like to know how far you see through me." + +Agatha looked at her with a smile and a flash of her eyes. + +"Ah, you are young, you are happy, you have never suffered on your own +account; and you do not much like suffering on the account of others. +You are very willing, is it not so? But after a time the goodwill and +patience wear thin." + +"I think you are a fortune-teller," said Adrienne with a little laugh; +but she felt uncomfortable, as she was distinctly conscious that day +that she was already beginning to be tired and fretted with her aunt's +continual depression and discontent. + +For a moment there was silence. Agatha was gazing out again, up into +the blue sky and her lips were moving, though she did not speak. + +Adrienne had an instinct that she was praying. + +Then the small hand was laid caressingly on her arm. "And how much do +you know of our Father?" + +Adrienne gazed at her at first uncomprehendingly, then the colour +mounted to her cheeks. + +"You mean," she said with embarrassment, "God. I believe in Him, of +course." + +"Where is the dear Lord in your life?" questioned Agatha. "Outside? Far +away. Up yonder in Heaven, or inside and close? Inside the heart which +He has made and bought back for Himself?" + +"Oh," murmured Adrienne, "you are probing too deeply, too quickly may I +say. I hardly know how to answer you." + +"But you will answer me later on, when you come again; you will think, +and use all the thinking powers that the Good God has given you." + +Adrienne bowed her head, and felt the tears rise to her eyes. In two +minutes this small sick girl had filled her soul with tumult and +confusion. Never had anyone come to such close quarters with her. +Godfrey had often talked to her on serious topics, but he had always +taken it for granted that she with him had the highest ideals and +purposes within her. + +Little Agatha seemed quite unaware of having said anything unusual; she +lay back on her cushions with a radiant smile upon her face. + +As Adrienne glanced at her, she was almost startled at the radiance +in her eyes. She had all the joyousness of a child, combined with the +deep, glowing joy of an adult. + +"You look so happy!" she could not help saying. + +"And am I not? How could I fail to be?" responded little Agatha +quickly. "Don't you know that we Christians must be—we cannot help +ourselves—the very happiest creatures in God's creation?" + +"But you," faltered Adrienne—"you lie here, year in, and year out, +don't you? You never have any change of scene?" + +"No change, Mademoiselle?" + +Agatha waved her hand outside: + +"Have you ever thought of it? The Good God has no duplicates. He never +makes two leaves, or blades of grass, no insect, bird, or animal alike! +No human being, and each with a different soul. How then should His +days be similar? I look at the sky and find fresh beauty every fresh +day, and I see visitors—oh, so many—and all with different lives and +difficulties and joys. To-day will be a fresh joy to me. I have made +acquaintance with you, and all day after you leave me, I will be +thinking of you and talking to my Father about you." + +Adrienne was touched. + +"'This is the day which the Lord has made,'" went on Agatha, "'we will +rejoice and be glad in it!' Every morning I say that to myself. And if +we have clouds, and sweeping storms, they come from Him; and if this +sweet, sweet sunshine, then also it belongs to Him. And when we have +God's sunshine in our hearts, nothing in the world can touch us, or +bring anything evil to our souls." + +"I suppose," said Adrienne, looking at her a trifle wistfully, "that +you have been good all your life, that praying and reading the Bible +comes natural to you." + +"I never pray," said Agatha serenely. + +Adrienne stared at her. + +"To pray is to beg, to beseech. There is no need to do that. I talk, +ah!—I talk to my Father all the day long. I never want anything for +myself; does not David say, 'The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not +want'? And when I want for others, I tell my Father, and leave it to +Him." + +Adrienne was silent, and then suddenly through the open window she saw +a peasant woman with her apron up to her eyes crying loudly. Marie had +gone down the garden path to meet her, and with a backward sign at +Agatha's window tried to hush her. + +"No," cried the woman, wringing her hands; "it is little Agatha I want! +Ah me! What a loss! What a black trouble! How shall we live without +her! What can we do? What will become of us?" + +Adrienne got up to go. + +"I will come another day," she said. "Here is someone in trouble, who +wants you. If sounds as if someone is dead." + +And almost before the words were out of her mouth, in came the weeping +woman who had flung away Marie's restraining arm. She cast herself down +on her knees by Agatha's couch. + +"Ah, little Agatha, here is black trouble and disaster for us all!" + +Adrienne slipped out of the room. Marie drew her out into the garden. + +"It is always so," she said; "they come and come all the day. I am +sorry, Mademoiselle, but you will come again. We have talked much of +you." + +"Of course I will come. I shall like to. That poor woman has lost +someone dear to her, I suppose?" + +"Her cow. It is a great loss. She is a widow and has five children. We +will tell the Curé. Madame, your dear aunt is so generous. She will +send relief at once. Lately she has helped the village so much. And +though, if I may say it, we hear she is so poor, there is always money +for the poor and distressed. May Heaven bless her!" + +This did not sound like the Countess, and Adrienne felt puzzled. + +"Does not your sister get tired with so many visitors?" + +"It is her life. She is like a mountain spring, always giving, giving, +and refreshing those around her. They all come to her, some with sins +on their consciences; those she brings to repentance and then sends +to the Curé. But between ourselves, Mademoiselle, she brings them to +the feet of the Blessed Saviour first. We have a great many come up +our garden path; look how worn the stones are. But I—though I'm only a +commonplace woman—I have visitors too. Our Father, Mademoiselle, was a +chemist and herbalist, and he was much thought of here. We hardly ever +needed a doctor, he knew so much, and he taught me, and left me two +valuable medicines. A spring tonic which all the village use in spring, +and a cure for rheumatism which is one great foe when we get old and +feeble. Perhaps not in every case a cure, but it eases and drives away +the pain. They come to me for medicine for their bodies, but to Agatha +for healing for their souls." + +"What a lot of good you must do!" said Adrienne. "And as for your sweet +little sister, she is an angel, she thrills me through when she speaks. +She's so intense and real and true!" + +"Ah, Mademoiselle, I dare not begin to talk of her, or of what she +has done and is doing in the village here. The Curé himself loves and +reverences her, he says she has taught him many things, and that in our +religion Mademoiselle is something supernatural, for our priests, you +know, are the guardians of our souls." + +Adrienne had reached the gate. She felt reluctant to leave, but as she +walked home her thoughts were busy. First, with her aunt, then with +little Agatha, lastly with herself. For the rest of that day the sweet +voice rang in her ears: + +"Where is the dear Lord in your life? Far away; or inside and close?" + + +The following day her aunt seemed much better in herself, and in the +afternoon she asked Adrienne to take a note to Madame Nicholas for her. + +"Do not leave it with anyone. Put it into her hands yourself, and if +she is not at home, bring it back to me." + +Then Adrienne understood. A few days before, her aunt and she had spent +a long afternoon with Madame Nicholas in her beautiful garden. Relays +of fruit, cakes, syrups and cooling drinks were served, and there were +two tables of Bridge players under the trees. The Countess joined one +of these groups. It was after this visit that she became so depressed +and retired to bed. + +Adrienne guessed that she had lost money over the game, and this note +was enclosing the amount due for her debts. She wondered how she had +got it, and found herself involuntarily casting her eyes round the +Château to see if any of its treasures were missing. She could not +discover any blank space on walls or tables. And then on the impulse of +the moment she told her aunt about the loss of the peasant woman's cow. + +"I thought it was a child she had lost; but I suppose their cows are as +precious to them as their children." + +The Countess seemed supremely indifferent to the story. + +"They are always crying over something or other—these peasants—it is +either a bad harvest, or a pig lost, or some epidemic carries off their +fowls." + +"I was wondering if we could help her at all?" + +"Help her! My dear child, I can't help them in my state of poverty. I +never heard of such a thing! I've forbidden the Curé to come to me any +more with his begging appeals. Now don't lose any more time, but take +my note at once." + +Adrienne set out for her walk. Her way lay through the woods, and the +fresh green loveliness around her, the sheets of bluebells on grassy +slopes, and the young bracken, uncurling under her feet, delighted and +refreshed her. + +Through the woods, across two flowery meadows, and then into the +winding lanes she went, finally reaching her destination just as a +car of smart people was coming through the gates. Madame Nicholas was +one of them. She stopped the car and apologized to Adrienne for not +welcoming her to the house. + +"We are just off to a friend's place near Orleans." + +Adrienne gave her her aunt's note, and saw a gleam of content in Madame +Nicholas's eyes. + +Then, after the car had left her, she determined to pursue her way +farther. She was fond of walking and loved exploring the country. She +soon got out of the lane, crossed a steep bit of wild moorland, and +then climbed up a green hill. + +Suddenly down the steep path came a girl in rough tweed coat and skirt. +She was considerably older than Adrienne, and had the unmistakable air +of an Englishwoman. But on her face, which was a strikingly handsome +one, was an expression of agitation and alarm. + +Directly she saw Adrienne she spoke. Her French was fluent. + +"Oh, do you know where a doctor lives? I must have one at once. Is +there one in the next village? I don't know my way about at all." + +"There is one five miles the other side of our village," said Adrienne +promptly; "but we're about two miles from this." + +If the girl had been French, she would have wrung her hands. As it was +she looked at Adrienne in blank dismay. + +"What can I do? I have left my brother alone. He has cut his arm +seriously, and I cannot stop the bleeding." + +Adrienne was noted for her presence of mind. It did not fail her now. +She spoke in English, and the girl's face brightened when she heard the +familiar tongue. + +"You must go back to him, and tie a bandage tight above the wound. Hold +it with your fingers if you cannot make a tourniquet. I'll get back as +quick as I can, and get my horse. I can ride the five or six miles in +no time. May I have your name and address?" + +"It is Preston! We live in a cottage away from everyone. It's called +'L'Eglantine,' at the top of Le Sourge, tell him. Thank you. I will do +as you say." + +She turned, and Adrienne saw her running lightly and swiftly up the +narrow path that wound in zig-zag fashion up the hill. + +Adrienne began to run too. She was breathless and exhausted by the time +she reached the Château. But as she was nearing the stables a message +was brought to her by Pierre: + +"Madame would see you at once, Mademoiselle." + +Adrienne directed Gaston to saddle Sultan, then she ran up to her +aunt's room, and told her where she was going. + +"But what nonsense," said the Countess; "I have been waiting for you +to look at my old black lace dress with a view to altering it. You +can't be at the beck and call of every stranger. Let them manage for +themselves." + +"I couldn't refuse to get help; but if you will let Gaston ride instead +of me, I will not go." + +"Gaston certainly will not go, nor any of my servants." + +Her aunt spoke angrily, and for once Adrienne lost her temper. + +"It's a question of life or death," she said; "I can't think how you +can be so inhuman, Aunt Cecily!" + +Then she left the bedroom, and flew downstairs again. + +In three minutes' time, she was galloping down the avenue and on the +road towards the doctor's house. She was fortunate to find him at home. +He promptly got out his car and was on his way with little loss of time. + +Adrienne cantered back to the Château more leisurely than she had +come, but she was not surprised to meet with a curt reception by her +aunt, who for the rest of the day treated her like a naughty child and +preserved a frigid silence till bedtime. Then Adrienne apologized for +her hasty words, and was forgiven. + +But when she was alone in her room she said to herself: + +"I cannot understand Aunt Cecily being so good and generous to the +villagers, when to me she appears the most selfish and unsympathetic +woman that ever lived! There must be a mistake somewhere." + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A CONTEST OF WILLS + +ADRIENNE thought a great deal about the English girl and her brother +during the next few days. She would have liked to call and make +inquiries, but her aunt made incessant demands on her time and +attention, and when she mentioned them said rather haughtily: + +"My dear Adrienne, I am not in the habit of knowing English tourists; +they come and go. We have a lot of artists in this neighbourhood, and +as a rule they are not in our class of life. I beg of you to put these +people out of your thoughts. You went out of your way to help them, and +that's an end of it." + +But there was a certain streak of obstinacy in Adrienne's nature; she +had been unaccustomed to control or surveillance. In her uncles' house +she was mistress, and there was something in that English girl's face +and bearing that made her want to know her. So she bided her time. + +In the meanwhile she made the acquaintance of the Curé. He came up +one morning to ask when the Count would return. As Adrienne was upon +the terrace when he arrived, she spoke to him, and told him that they +expected the Count back the end of the week. He looked relieved, and +then Adrienne asked if there was anything that her aunt could do. + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"She could, but I fear she will not. It is only the sad case of a widow +with children who has lost her only means of subsistence." + +"Ah," said Adrienne with interest, "I know all about her; and now +I begin to understand, it is my cousin Guy who is the peasants' +benefactor and not my aunt. Why do they think all their help comes from +her?" + +The Curd looked uncomfortable, then he said: + +"It is his wish; he does it for his father's sake, he does not want the +Château to have a bad name. And he also does it for his own sake. He is +a very kindhearted man, the Count, though he hides it under a cloak of +reserve." + +"I will tell him about the widow and her cow directly he comes back," +said Adrienne; "I heard about it when I was with little Agatha." + +The priest's round, cheerful face became quite radiant. + +"You have made acquaintance with her, our little Agatha? She is well +worth the knowing. One of the Good God's saints. She lives always on +His Threshold." + +He departed, and Adrienne wisely kept the purpose of his visit a secret +from her aunt. + + +Two days later the Count returned. He surprised Adrienne in the act of +gathering roses in the garden just before she went to her aunt's room +for tea. + +Adrienne felt a sudden joy course through her veins as she saw him. She +knew then how much she had missed him. + +"Well," he said to her, "how have things been going? Madame ma mère, +how is she?" + +"Pretty well. She had an attack of—of what I think is nerves and +depression and went to bed, but she is better again now. Before I +forget, the Curé called upon you about a villager in distress. Her cow +has died. It is Jeanne Couiller." + +"Why don't these peasants insure their cows?" he said a trifle +impatiently. + +But he took his notebook out of his pocket and scribbled something into +it. + +Adrienne looked at him, and glancing up he met her gaze. + +"A penny for your thoughts," he said lightly. + +"Why don't you take credit for what you do?" she asked him. "It is not +fair to credit Aunt Cecily with your good deeds." + +He frowned. + +"I don't like any criticism on what I do or say," he said rather coldly. + +"I won't apologize for criticizing you," said Adrienne with her sunny +laugh; "because if I am cowed by Aunt Cecily, I am not going to be +cowed and browbeaten by you. She is weak and unhappy, you are strong. +It is the weak who tyrannize. I have seen little Agatha, and I think +she's perfectly charming. I had a very short visit, but I mean to go +again." + +She could not but notice that whenever Agatha's name was mentioned, it +evoked a smile from people's faces. + +Guy's rather stern countenance softened at once. + +"That's good to hear," he said. "And now I must see ma mère." + +The Countess brightened up, as she always did when her stepson +appeared. It was a warm afternoon, and they had tea on the terrace and +were quite a cheerful little party. + +But Adrienne fancied that, in spite of cheerful words, Guy was +abstracted and absent in manner. He did not stay very long, pleading a +lot of business which awaited his return. And when he went, it needed +all her ingenuity to keep her aunt contented. + +"He is getting more and more unsociable. He comes round much less since +you have been out here." + +"Of course he does," Adrienne assented cheerfully; "for he knows you +are not left alone." + +"But you are becoming so dull, you have so little to say." + +Adrienne could not help laughing. + +"I suppose I have used up all my small talk, and there is so little to +talk about. You are not interested in the village news. I think I must +try and have some adventures when I walk out, and then I shall have +something to tell you when I come back." + +"A good conversationalist needs no fresh material to talk about." + +"I have not lived long enough," said Adrienne demurely, "and I have led +too quiet a life to be an interesting companion, I fear. Now if Uncle +Tom were here, he would never stop talking; he's always amusing, and +he's never at a loss." + +"Oh, Tom is the fool of the family," said the Countess with disdain. + + +The next morning Adrienne determined to ride off and inquire for the +stranger who had met with an accident. She said nothing about it to her +aunt, and at eight o'clock was riding through the woods. + +She had just reached the end of them, when she met her cousin Guy. He +was walking with a farmer, but directly he saw her, he stopped, and his +companion walked on. + +"Where are you off to?" he inquired. + +"To Le Sourge. There are some English people living up there, and one +of them has met with an accident. I met his sister coming down for +help, and I want to know how he is." + +To her surprise, Guy's brows contracted fiercely. + +"I am sorry you have run across them," he said. "I must ask you to go +no further." + +"But—but—" + +Adrienne looked her amazement, then she stiffened in her saddle: + +"Unless you have some very good reason, I mean to go on. It is only +kind to do so." + +Guy's lips snapped together like steel. + +"I cannot permit you. You must take my word for it without demanding a +reason." + +The colour rose in Adrienne's cheeks and the fire to her eyes. Never in +her life had she been subjected to autocratic rule. + +"That I will not do," she said. "You have no right to dictate to me, +Cousin Guy. Let me pass." + +His hand was on the bridle of her horse; he held the bit in an iron +grip. + +"You are under my stepmother's care," he said; "and when she is unable +to exercise her authority, I shall do so if necessary." + +He had turned her horse as he spoke and was leading it back through the +pathway in the woods. + +For an instant Adrienne's temper rose high; she realized that if it +came to a struggle she had the advantage. And yet the fear flashed +through her that even on foot her cousin was more than a match for her. +She could not resort to her riding switch. Dignity and pride forbade +her to prolong the contest. + +With an exasperated laugh she said: + +"But this is absurd! You are treating me like a child. I don't want to +quarrel with you. But you are exceeding your powers—as a cousin—we are +not even properly related." + +"Thank goodness, no!" he ejaculated fervently. + +Again Adrienne looked her surprise. + +"You needn't lose your temper," she said; "it is I who should do that. +And I have done it. I am very angry with you. I am not accustomed to +being treated in such a manner. Will you kindly take your hand off my +bridle?" + +"Not until I have your word that you will abandon this visit." + +"That I shall not give you, unless you give me a satisfactory reason +for doing so." + +There was silence, but his hand still controlled her horse, and his +face was set like adamant. + +"Cousin Guy, you are making yourself ridiculous. Do you think we're +back in the mediaeval times when men managed women with high-handed +tyranny? Do you think that your will is law? It is not to me, nor ever +will be. If you prevent me going to Le Sourge this morning, I shall do +so to-morrow, or at the first opportunity that comes. And you're only +making yourself exceedingly unpleasant, for no just cause." + +Not a word or a flicker of an eyebrow. Her cousin strode on, as if she +had not spoken. + +"I am seeing you in a new light," Adrienne went on; "I was beginning +to like you, and to enjoy your company. Your behaviour this morning is +quite irritating enough to stop all friendship between us." + +Then Guy stopped, and looked at her. + +His sternness had disappeared, and his eyes were smiling if not his +lips. + +"You are an adept at tongue lashing," he said; "women always are. But +words never affect me, only deeds. When you are calm, I will speak. If +you had full confidence, instead of mere liking, you would have given +me the promise I want, for you would have known I should never have +frustrated your wishes from mere caprice or from sheer tyranny." + +"I cannot obey blindly. Why should I? I am not a child." + +But Adrienne's tone was no longer haughty; she was beginning to feel +ashamed of the temper she had shown. + +For a moment or two, he led her horse on in silence. + +Then she said suddenly: + +"You can take your hand away. I won't be led along in this fashion. +I'll give up my visit—for to-day." + +He dropped the bridle at once. + +Adrienne whipped up her steed and cantered away from him through the +woods, never drawing rein till she reached the Château. + +She felt really angry with her cousin, angrier than she had ever felt +with anyone before. + +"Does he expect to shut me up in the Château with my aunt, and only +know a few of her French Bridge-playing friends? And when I get a +chance of knowing another Englishwoman, shall I not take it? What +possible concern is it of his? I wish I had gone before he returned. I +liked the look of her. And I mean to see her again. I shall walk out +to-morrow if it is fine." + +But that evening Guy appeared at dinner. + +Adrienne was standing at an open door in the salon humming a little +song to herself, and waiting for her aunt. She always dressed very +simply. Her white gown was almost severe in its cut, and only a cluster +of crimson roses at her breast relieved its white purity. As she stood +there, a picture of a fresh English girl in her slim grace and dignity, +with her sunny brown hair just touched with the golden rays of the sun, +Guy from the threshold of the door gazed at her with intent dreamy eyes. + +And then, turning, she saw him: her little song died away on her lips, +her smile disappeared. + +"Am I forgiven?" he asked, advancing into the room. + +Adrienne glanced at him in cold disdain. + +The entrance of her aunt saved her from the necessity of a reply. + +She was very silent during dinner, and her aunt said at last to Guy: + +"Well, I am thankful you are back. I've been telling Adrienne that she +is becoming dull. I suppose she's getting tired of us." + +"I have had the misfortune to offend her," Guy said coolly. + +Adrienne shot an indignant glance at him, but it was not her way to +sulk. + +"He has been very rude to me, Aunt Cecily, and I don't want to talk +to him. I am sorry you find me so dull, but my month here is soon +coming to an end. I shall have to be going home next week. I heard +this morning from Uncle Derrick, and he wants me to fix my date for +returning." + +If Adrienne had exploded a bomb, she could not have startled her aunt +more. She burst forth into a torrent of expostulations, almost French +in her excitement and agitation. + +"I will not hear of it, Adrienne! You came here to be with me. Your +uncles have each other! You know I cannot be left alone. It is +preposterous! To come over here for a month! You know you could not +do it! Your home ought to be with me altogether. I have a claim upon +you. You are my only niece, you have no parents, and your home ought +to be with me and not with your uncles! I will not hear of your going! +I shall write to Derrick to-night. I will wire! He shall not take you +away! How can I be left in my present state of health? It is cruel! The +very suggestion is making me feel quite faint and unnerved. Help me +into the salon. I must lie down. No, I do not want any strawberries." + +Out came her handkerchief. Adrienne looked helplessly at Guy, who rose +and offered his stepmother his arm. + +"No," the Countess sobbed; "I will go to bed, I am too unwell. My heart +is bad. To spring such a thing upon me is most unkind. Guy, use your +authority; tell her she is not to go. You brought her over; make her +stay!" + +"Oh, Aunt Cecily," said Adrienne, quite distressed at the commotion she +had caused, "I am sorry, but you know I only came for a month. Don't +think any more about it to-night. Let me come up and help you." + +For a moment the Countess seemed as if she were going to refuse her +help, then she thought better of it; but all the way upstairs she +was upbraiding her as she leant upon her arm, with ingratitude and +selfishness. + +Guy lit his pipe and paced the terrace outside, wondering if Adrienne +would come down again, or if she would ignore his presence there. + +He felt a great relief when he saw her white gown in the distance. A +few minutes later she stood before him. + +"My aunt has sent me to you with a message. She wants you to come over +to-morrow morning and see her about a letter she has received from a +farmer. It is about some fences that want to be renewed. They border on +his ground, and his cattle break through." + +"Tell her I will be here at half-past ten." + +Then he drew forward a wicker chair. + +"Come and sit down. If I had not offended you, you would not have +threatened to leave your aunt. And I have come to the conclusion that +I must explain. I know these people at Le Sourge, and the man is a +wastrel and a scoundrel, and not fit for any nice girl to know." + +Adrienne dropped into the chair he had placed for her. + +"Having said so much, you must tell me more," she said. "It is not the +man I want to know, of course I hope for his recovery, but it is his +sister who interests me, and a woman who has a brother who is a failure +is to be pitied, not shunned." + +"I don't want to go into details," said Guy a little curtly. "It is +enough that he's not a man for you to know, and I'm thankful that he's +not likely to come within your circle." + +"That's too arbitrary for me," said Adrienne in a tone of hauteur. +"I don't intend to go through life edging away from everything and +everyone who is not of spotless purity. What is their story? Their name +is Preston. Have they always lived here?" + +"No, he's by way of being an artist. I met them in Rome some years ago; +he was rather well known upon the Riviera before that—ran through a +fortune at Monte Carlo—and then he took up art for a living." + +"His poor sister! I expect she brought him to this out-of-the-way place +to keep him out of temptation." + +"Oh, money is not his temptation. We won't discuss him. I will not have +you make his acquaintance." + +"But, Cousin Guy, you are not my guardian." + +"I have made myself one pro tem.," he said gravely. "Your uncles would +hold me responsible if you came to any harm." + +"Oh, I'm not a child." + +Adrienne's tone was impatient. + +"Do you think I would fall in love with him, or he with me?" she went +on. "It is his sister I want to know. She is English, and is living +here away from friends. I liked her look so; she's straight and frank +and so handsome, and such lines of trouble upon her face!" + +Silence fell between them for a few minutes, then Adrienne rose from +her seat with a little sigh. + +"Well, I will submit to your discretion. I won't pay them a visit. If +I were younger and rasher, I would out of mere curiosity, but I will +write a note to her. That I can do, to show a little sympathy." + +Guy rose and held out his hand to her. + +"Shake, as we Americans say," he said, smiling. + +Adrienne smiled at him in return. His smiles were so few that she was +absolutely fascinated by them. They made him look ten years younger. +She put her hand in his. + +"Don't be so masterful and peremptory another time," she said; "it +never pays with me. I'm not one of those women who admire a 'cave man.'" + +"I didn't lay my hand upon you," he said. + +"You laid it on my horse. I wonder—" She stopped: a dreamy look came +into her eyes. "I wonder if he knows little Agatha." + +"God forbid!" said Guy hastily. + +Adrienne looked at him reproachfully. + +"How can you speak so! I feel she would get hold of a man's soul if +anyone could, and bring light and hope to the most desperate. You are +very inconsistent, Cousin Guy. The first time I saw you, you talked to +me about half the world easing the burdens of the other half; you put +yourself and me in the position of burden-bearers, and said I ought +to ease the burden of loneliness and unhappiness which weighs down my +aunt—" + +"And I really think you are doing it," said Guy, looking at her with a +little smile about his lips. + +"Please don't interrupt me, but listen to your inconsistency. What +about the sister of this man whom you condemn in such a wholesale way? +Is she never to have her burden eased? Isn't an unsatisfactory brother +whom she is hoping to reform, a very big burden for any woman to bear? +Is she never to form a friendship because of it? Is she to be boycotted +because of him?" + +Guy was standing in a leaning posture, his arm resting on the old +terrace wall. He straightened himself at Adrienne's words, and looked +away over the tree-tops in silence for a few minutes. + +Then he said gravely: + +"That's a straight thrust, my little cousin. I must weigh my words +well, if you store them up against me in such a fashion." + +"If we talk from a height," said Adrienne demurely, "we must live up +there." + +Guy did not appear to hear her. His eyes were still on the distant +view, as he said very slowly: + +"I suppose I care more about you than her." + +Adrienne was a little startled. Her self-possession was shaken. + +She said quickly and nervously: + +"You cannot trust me if you think the existence or life of this unknown +man could affect me in any way. It is his sister I should like to know +and help. But I will say no more. I have given you my promise not to +visit them. If I meet her by chance anywhere alone, I shall certainly +be friendly, should she wish it. And as for my returning home, you +know I must do it sooner or later, but I have promised Aunt Cecily to +stay another fortnight or so. I will say good night. Ever since I was +a small child, I have always refused to go to bed until I was friends +again with anyone who had had a difference with me, so you and I must +forget the events of this morning." + +"We will," said Guy heartily. + +He held her hand in his for a moment. + +"If I could tell you a certain bit of my life," he said, "you would +understand my attitude towards these people. They have only come here +lately, and they don't know of my existence here, and I don't want them +to know it. But when they do, they'll remove themselves as far from my +vicinity as possible." + +Adrienne looked at him wistfully. + +"And you won't explain further?" + +She left him, but he paced up and down the terrace for an hour later, +with set lips and moody eyes. + + + +CHAPTER X + +A MORNING RIDE + +WITHIN the next few days Adrienne paid two visits in the village, one +to little Agatha again and one to Madame Bouverie. This last one was +compulsory; for a long time she had made excuses when invitations came +to tea or to tennis, but her aunt insisted upon her accepting this one. +It was to an "English tea" in the garden. + +"Madame Bouverie is angry; she says you think yourself too good for +their company, and I cannot afford to displease her, much as I loathe +her. It won't hurt you as much as it hurts me to continually receive +her when she calls." + +So Adrienne went. The Bouveries lived in a villa just outside the +village. His brass plate was on the door, and his office adjoined the +street, but at the back they had a very pretty and rather pretentious +garden, with rose pergolas, fountains and masses of bright-coloured +flower beds. + +The doctor's wife, some young people from Orleans, the Curé, and two +nieces from Tours who were staying in the house, formed the party. +Though they sat in the garden and played tennis, Madame Bouverie could +not resist showing Adrienne her house, which was overcrowded with +furniture and treasures of all sorts. + +"It is rather full," she apologized; "but we shall be soon leaving it +for a bigger house. My husband and I have a collecting mania; we pick +up things all over the world." + +If Adrienne had only known, nearly the whole of the old china, and +glass, and many pictures had come from the Château, which indeed had +proved a treasure-house to the collectors. + +The conversation was entirely in French, but Adrienne was now able to +understand and take part in it. She played tennis, and made herself +as agreeable as she could to everyone. The doctor's wife was a very +talkative little soul. Adrienne felt that, as a doctor's wife, she +lacked discretion. Her husband's patients were the source of the +greatest interest to her. + +"Adolphe is so busy, so popular! All the great people in the +neighbourhood call for him. The Marquise of Pompagny was 'phoning in +distraction yesterday; I could not appease her. Adolphe was with a Mr. +Preston, a countryman of yours, Mademoiselle. He is very dangerously +ill of a fever following a wound. He is not too abstemious, and it +tells, it tells when sickness comes. I promised the Marquise my husband +should come immediately he returned—I asked if it were herself or her +children, and then—imagine it—her pet Pom was indisposed, and it was +urgent—imperative that Adolphe should leave the sick Englishman, and +attend instantaneously upon the little darling! When he returned, I +gave him the message. He snorted! He rebelled, but he went post-haste, +with no bit of lunch, no rest, for we cannot afford to quarrel with the +Marquise!" + +"How is Mr. Preston?" Adrienne asked as soon as she could get in a word. + +"Dying, Mademoiselle, dying, my husband says. They live not very far +from this village, but he came in very delicate health, and they do not +like visitors. I went up to see them, but was not admitted. But then +they are English, so—a thousand apologies, Mademoiselle. I forget I am +speaking to an Englishwoman. Still you know some of your country people +are reserved—haughty—as is this sister of the invalid." + +"I feel sorry for her," said Adrienne. "I did not know he was so ill." + +"Do you know them?" + +"No, I met the sister. If you remember I summoned your husband when the +accident happened." + +"Ah, so you did! Strange that I should have forgotten. The accident! +Think you it was an accident? She said he was chopping wood, but my +husband says he gets fits of delirium tremens, and does damage to +himself and others. He has been an artist; but Adolphe thinks that the +sister knew, when she brought him here, that she was bringing him to +die." + +Adrienne heard no more, for Madame Caillot was called away, but she +thought much of the brother and sister in their trouble, and wondered +if she could help them in any way. + + +When she called upon Agatha the next day, she mentioned them to her. +To her surprise she learnt that Agatha had already received a visit +from Miss Preston. It appeared that a young peasant woman who knew +Agatha well was attending upon them. And Miss Preston had been advised +to go to Marie for some cooling medicine which had a wonderful effect +in cases of fevers. When she came, Marie had brought her into the sick +girl's room. + +"Mademoiselle," said Agatha in her sweet grave voice, "there is one +thing I am never permitted to do—to talk about my visitors, to tell +their troubles to others. But I will say this to you. Mademoiselle +Preston is a heavy-laden soul, and she is a brave one, though she +expends her strength needlessly. For cannot our burdens be rolled upon +the shoulders of the One who holds the world in the hollow of His hand?" + +"I am sure you comforted her, Agatha." + +"Nay," said Agatha, looking out of her window dreamily; "at times it +hurts to probe for the thorn. And troubles and cares harden the soul +more than pleasures, Mademoiselle." + +Adrienne was silent. Presently she said: + +"You have made me think, Agatha. I have passed my years very pleasantly +and easily, with just enough religion to take me to church, and to say +my daily prayers. I have done it from habit or from duty. But I have +gone no further. I worship afar off. I do not know Christ as my near +and dear Friend as you do. I don't think I ever shall be so good as +that." + +Agatha turned to her with her radiant smile. "It is not the good ones +that our Lord covets for His Friends. It is the lowly and contrite +heart that is His chosen habitation. You are losing happiness, that is +all I can say. Happiness that stays, and deepens, and never dims." + +"I should like to know Him like that," was Adrienne's wistful reply. + +"You will, dear Mademoiselle. Just a quiet talk with Him about the big +need in your life, the union with Him. He died to join earth to heaven, +the sinner to his Saviour." + +She said little more. Agatha's words were always few, that was why they +were remembered. But when Adrienne got up to go, she said: + +"I expect you to come to me next time with your happy soul shining +through your eyes. May I say, I expect to see signs of our dear Lord's +presence within!" + +"Oh, Agatha, I'm cold and far away, but I'm reading my Bible. I should +like to get nearer if I could." + +And as she went home, a deep and earnest resolve took root within her, +that her religion should no longer be a mere respectable cloak, but a +deep and living reality within her soul. + + +A day or two after this visit, the Count came over to see his +stepmother on business. He appeared at five o'clock. It was a lovely +afternoon in June, and Adrienne and her aunt were taking tea on the +terrace, outside. The Countess was in one of her brighter moods. She +was expecting the quarterly sum of money that Guy brought her from his +farm accounts, and money to her represented ease and enjoyment of life. +Without it, she was abject and miserable. Adrienne, too, had heard from +her uncles that day accepting her decision to prolong her stay away. In +fact they had told her that they intended to take a six weeks' cruise +to Norway, so could spare her to her aunt for that time. + +The Countess told Guy this fact with a triumphant air. + +"I have said again and again to Adrienne that my brothers can get on +quite well without her. The longer she stays away, the more they will +get accustomed to her absence. And the better it will be for all of +us. French air seems to suit her. Madame Pompagny remarked to me how +improved she was in looks." + +"She meant that I was thinner," said Adrienne, laughing. + +"Ah well, you could do with a little less flesh," said the Countess, +who prided herself upon her slimness; "and it is not comme il faut to +be thick and stout. We leave that to Madame Bouverie and her kind!" + +"When are we going to have some more rides together?" asked Guy, his +eyes on Adrienne's graceful figure as she poured out tea for her aunt. + +"To-morrow morning, if you like," Adrienne responded gaily; "but I am +quite accustomed now to ride about alone. You have been so much away, +and so immersed in your farm!" + +"Haymaking is a busy time, but it's over now for this year. To-morrow, +then, at seven o'clock." + +"So terribly early," murmured the Countess; "it reminds me of those +dreadful hunting mornings in England. I never could bear them. They say +over here that we take our pleasures sadly. Anything more spartan than +an English sportsman I hope I may never see. And I don't at all approve +of your riding about alone, Adrienne. French girls don't do it." + +"No, but they know that English girls do," responded Adrienne. + +It was at this juncture that Pierre appeared with a note which he +presented to the Count. + +Adrienne, watching him idly, as he politely asked his stepmother's +permission to read it, was startled to see what an effect the contents +had upon him. Under the tan of his cheeks a red flush mounted. His +features contracted, his brows knit, and his lips compressed like steel. + +Then he very deliberately and slowly got to his feet. + +"Pierre, I'll have my mare at once," he said to the old man who stood +waiting at the door. + +"What is it? Business again?" asked the Countess indifferently. + +He did not reply, but strode to the door. + +"Don't wait dinner for me to-night. I shan't be able to come in again. +I'll say good night to both of you." + +He was gone; and Adrienne cried out impulsively: + +"He looks as if someone has challenged him to fight a duel. I hope I +shall never encounter one of those looks from him." + +"Are you talking of Guy? Duels are not much in his line," said +her aunt; "I always think he is too easy in his dealing with his +fellow-creatures. Certainly with the peasants he is, and he is +strangely unsociable over here. Never makes friends with his father's +acquaintances. Dear Philippe made a great mistake by letting him be +educated in America. He was always with his mother's people. No, I +don't think he is likely to be called out by any French dueller. But +he is too reserved. Why could he not have told us frankly what was in +that note? I am not inquisitive, but in this dull hole everything is of +interest." + +"I never can understand whether you like or dislike this Château," said +Adrienne. + +"And I don't understand myself," said the Countess. "When the Bouveries +press me, and hint that they mean to take possession, I would give my +soul to remain here; but when the dull days come, and the monotony +depresses me, I long to run away from it, and never see it again." + +"It would save you a lot of worry and care if you did that," said +Adrienne carelessly. + +Then the Countess almost stormed at her, she was so angry. And having +worked herself up into a state of emotion and heroics over her darling +husband's ancestral home with all its past historic stories, she +dissolved into tears, and Adrienne had the greatest difficulty in the +world to calm her and comfort her. + +Punctually at seven o'clock the next morning, Guy was waiting with the +horses. + +"I wondered if you would remember," said Adrienne, when she had joined +him and they were walking their horses through the cool green glades in +the wood. + +"I am not given to fail," he said shortly. + +"No, but you left us in a very perturbed state of mind last night, and +I was afraid that your business might interfere with our pleasure this +morning." + +He made no reply to this. He was unusually abstracted and distrait, and +after some minutes of silence, Adrienne said gaily: + +"Really, Cousin Guy, if your soul is going to be miles away from me, it +will be a very dull ride with only your body for company." + +He turned and looked at her. + +"Perhaps you would prefer to ride alone?" + +"I should prefer you to respond to me a little. Am I very demanding?" + +He still did not speak, and they rode on in silence through the wood. +Then as they came out in the open, he said with a little effort: + +"That artist up the hill died last night. I want you to ride with me +now to a Protestant parson who lives about eight miles away. I told his +sister I would send him to her." + +"Oh, I am sorry," murmured Adrienne, not knowing quite what to say; +"I am glad you are helping her, poor thing, and I am thankful I +wrote to her when I did. She replied so kindly, but she told me that +complications had followed her brother's wound, and I heard from little +Agatha that he was practically dying. When did you hear of it?" + +"He sent for me." + +Adrienne understood then that the note he had received the night before +was the summons. + +After a moment's silence, Guy spoke again: + +"I was mistaken—he had wronged me—but he was innocent of the worst +wrong I accredited him with. He has been his own worst enemy all his +life, but he has gone now to his account. We need not judge him. You +can go and see his sister if you like. I am very thankful you can stay +on with your aunt, for I shall have to go over to America, and I may be +there for a longish time." + +Adrienne felt dismay seize her. + +"I am always nervous when you are away," she said. "I never know what +Mr. Bouverie may do. He haunts the Château in your absence—and Aunt +Cecily gets more and more depressed and miserable." + +"I don't think her moods improve with my presence here," said Guy +gravely; "Bouverie is nearly at the end of his tether. It would be +better for all of us, if he took his last step." + +"What do you mean? You don't expect him to turn her out of the Château, +do you? You would prevent that?" + +"Why should I? I have given, and given and given, and money in your +aunt's hands is the same as putting it into a sieve! It runs through as +soon as it gets there." + +"I don't understand either of you," Adrienne murmured. + +Then she left that subject. + +"Who is this Protestant parson?" she asked. "I have been longing to get +to an English—or Protestant service, and Aunt Cecily said there was +none within reach of us." + +"There is a Protestant family—descendants of the historian, D'Aubignay, +who live about ten miles off. When they are here for the summer, they +engage a chaplain to come out, and have service in a small chapel in +their grounds. They have only just come into residence, or I would have +told you of it. You may like to go over on Sundays." + +"I should very much. Are they nice people? Aunt Cecily has never +mentioned them to me." + +"They are not her sort, but they would be delighted to have you at +their services. There are no young people. Three elderly women and +their brother. One is a widow, and it is she who has the money." + +They rode on through the country lanes, and then along a straight white +road lined with poplars. + +It was Adrienne's turn to be silent now; she felt that with her uncles +in Norway, and Guy in America, life might be difficult, and she had a +haunting presentiment of evil to come. + +They came at length to a small village, in which Guy found the +chaplain. He was a short, pleasant-faced man, who spoke English with +the greatest ease. + +Guy dismounted, but did his business on the doorstep. + +Adrienne rode through the village and noted on the outskirts a Château, +standing amongst old trees. Then she came across an old lady, in a big +mushroom hat, who was talking to one of the peasants. She wondered at +seeing her out at that early hour, but from her face and voice she knew +she must come from the Château. As Adrienne passed her, she stood still +and regarded her with quiet interest. On the impulse of the moment +Adrienne spoke in her best French: + +"Excuse me, Madame, but I am told that there is a Protestant Service +held near here. Should I intrude if I attend?" + +"But certainly not," the old lady responded with a gracious little bow; +"our Service is open to all. We have two, every Sunday, at ten o'clock +and five." + +"I should like to come to the ten o'clock one if I may. I am staying +with my aunt, Madame de Beaudessert." + +"Why, of course! I saw the Count the other day, and he mentioned your +name to us. I should have called, but your aunt does not care for our +visits. I felt it my duty to leave her a little tract on the sin of +card-playing and gambling, and she resented it." + +"I am sure she would," said Adrienne, smiling. + +She bowed and rode back to her cousin. + +He had just finished his talk with the chaplain, Mr. Marline. + +As they were on their way home, Adrienne told him of her meeting with +the old lady. + +"That would be Miss D'Aubignay. She is given to tract distribution; I +received one on the evils of smoking. Now I wonder what yours will be!" + +"On youth and giddiness," said Adrienne, laughing; "but I don't think +giddiness is a perquisite of mine—I am generally thought a frump by +girls nowadays!" + +Then she asked him when Mr. Preston's funeral would be. + +He told her in two days' time, and that he would be buried in the small +Protestant burial-ground in the village they had just left. + +"Could I send Miss Preston a few flowers?" Adrienne asked. + +"If you like. Take them to her if you will." + +He relapsed into silence, and their ride home was almost a speechless +one. + +Adrienne felt she had a lot to think about, and was glad to get to the +quiet of her own room. + +It was ridiculous she told herself to feel depressed because her cousin +was going to leave them, but she could not combat it until she was with +her aunt, and then she was her cheerful self again. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A SUMMONS + +GUY departed three days later. He was very uncommunicative; to +Adrienne, he seemed like a man walking in a dream. She hardly knew +her energetic cousin. Her aunt complained bitterly of his want of +confidence in her, and upbraided him with it when he came to wish her +good-bye. + +"But, ma mère," he said, "this is not my life, my home; I am a bird of +passage. I have been working at the farm for a bit so as to pull it +together, and I pride myself upon having put a bit of work into Jean. +He can go on by himself now. You did not think I was always going to +sit in your pocket, did you?" + +"I think you a most inconsiderate and ungrateful stepson," retorted the +Countess. "You know how I am being preyed upon, and how everyone takes +advantage of me because I have no man at my back. If this is not your +home, where is it?" + +"I have no home," said Guy gravely; "I am a nomad from circumstances +and choice." + +He bade her farewell, and she, as usual, dissolved into tears. + +Adrienne went out to the terrace to see him off. + +The car was waiting, and then, just as he was getting into it, he +turned and came back to her. There was a strange look upon his face, +half daring, half wistful. + +"Little cousin," he said, "if I find I want to settle down, could we +work a home together, do you think?" + +"I don't know what you mean," said Adrienne breathlessly. + +"Don't you? Think about it whilst I am away. Only a woman makes a home, +and the only woman who could make me a home would be you." + +Then the colour rushed into Adrienne's cheeks, and sudden anger seemed +to seize her. + +"I am sorry I cannot oblige you," she said stiffly; "the contingency of +your wanting a home may never arise. It sounds from your point of view +very doubtful." + +"Have you no personal liking for me?" + +He put the question very gravely. + +"I think you're a very baffling, mysterious person," Adrienne said, +and there was some resentment in her tone. "You won't take people into +your confidence, and you come and go with your own life locked away +from us all. I don't wonder my aunt gets impatient with you. She is on +the edge of a precipice; her home is being wrested away from her in a +most dishonest fashion, and yet you refuse to let us know whether you +mean to save it for her or not. I hate secrecy and intrigue of any +kind; you make a mystery of everything even of these Prestons. I have +been accustomed to the very reverse of this, and cannot understand you. +No, I would never link my life with one who is so I reserved, and so +complacent in his reticence." + +He stood for a moment looking at her, but Adrienne would not meet his +eyes. + +"I did not realize you disapproved of me so much," he said slowly; "I +am afraid you still bear me a grudge over that poor miserable Preston. +Well, you have given me my answer. Perhaps I have been foolish in being +so precipitous. Au revoir. You will stay here till I return?" + +"I can make no promises," Adrienne replied; but her tone softened. "I +won't desert Aunt Cecily if I can help it, but I cannot stay on with +her interminably, and that she will not understand." + +He left her, and she watched the car disappear down the drive and along +the straight white road that led to the station. + +Why had she felt so ruffled and indignant? she asked herself. + +"It was the way he spoke," she assured herself; "he could not have been +in earnest. Did he mean a proposal of marriage? If so, he was very +indifferent and uncertain about it, as he is about everything. He's so +detached and superior, hardly like a human being. I won't think about +him any more. He is gone, and I know, in spite of his aggravating ways, +we shall miss him intensely. If one was in trouble, how reliable he +would be! And yet what a contradiction he is! He seems to watch Aunt +Cecily's difficulties with perfect indifference. I cannot, cannot +understand him." + +The following day Adrienne met Miss Preston in the village. She had +been visiting little Agatha. She was in a white serge gown with black +straw hat and a black scarf about her shoulders. And she looked worn +and weary but strikingly handsome and distinguished. + +"It was kind of you to send me those flowers," she said; "though +they're but an emblem, and of no use to the one who is gone—yet one +appreciates the kind thought." + +"I have been so sorry for you," said Adrienne; "you must be very +lonely." + +"I am strangely bewildered," she said with a very sweet smile; "I am +like a horse without his rider, or a scale without weights. My very +reason for existence gone. I shall take time to adapt myself to life +again, so I'm staying in my retreat quite quietly. Will you come and +see me?" + +"Certainly I will. What do you think of little Agatha?" + +"She does not bear talking about," was the grave reply; "it is an +effort to get into her environment, and a bigger effort to get out of +it, do you not find it so?" + +"I hope I do," said Adrienne slowly; "it is what she would wish, is it +not?" + +Then they parted, and in a few days' time Adrienne made her promised +visit. + +The cottage on Le Sourge surprised her. One big living-room downstairs +and a small back kitchen, two large bedrooms above, and a smaller one +in the roof. The walls of all were covered with water-colour sketches +of a purity and delicacy that proved the genius of the author of them. +They were mostly landscapes. Sunsets from the hills outside Rome, and +bits of the Mediterranean from Naples and Sicily. Queer little Italian +villages up against the sky in the folds of the hills; peasants with +carts of hay, trucks of fruit, milk-cans on dog-carts, and beautiful +girls, amongst the grapes in vineyards, girls with black hair, with +golden, and with flaming red tresses. + +Adrienne caught her breath as she looked at them. + +"What an artist your brother must have been!" she said. + +"He was," Miss Preston replied quietly. + +She was evidently not going to discuss her brother, for she began +to talk of other things. Incidentally Adrienne learnt that she had +relations in Yorkshire. She had an uncle who was Canon in York +Cathedral, and another uncle who was a retired General and lived in the +family place in Westmorland. + +It was when Adrienne began to talk about her uncles that she told her +this. + +"They are quite the pleasantest relatives to own," she said with +a humorous curl to her lips; "it is their wives who are sometimes +difficult, but you have never experienced that." + +"No," Adrienne owned; "though at times I have had scares that way. +Uncle Tom is all right, but Uncle Derrick has two or three women +friends who occasionally sweep down upon us. There is a certain widow +who used to live in Malta, and whom he used to visit when he was at +sea. She's a nice woman, but I believe on her side it's little more +than just old friendship." + +"Men ought to marry," Miss Preston said emphatically. + +Then they talked of the country they were in, and its customs. Adrienne +came home to her aunt feeling that she had made a friend, and strangely +enough her aunt began to be interested in the stranger. + +"Ask her to tea one afternoon. I should like to make her acquaintance +if she's a gentlewoman. I thought she and her brother were a pair of +these Bohemian artists. I've seen them going about in sandals, hatless +and with knapsacks across their backs, the women as tanned and dusty +and unkempt as the men." + +So Miss Preston came to tea, and the Countess liked her, and asked her +to come again. + +Adrienne went out walks with her, but in all her talks Miss Preston +never mentioned her brother or the Count. + +One day, as they were sitting in the woods together, enjoying the cool +shade on a very sunny morning, Adrienne said suddenly to her friend: + +"Do you believe that our lives are ordered and planned for us by God? +Little Agatha says they are." + +"She thinks there is an original groove or place which we may +circumvent," said Miss Preston. "For a little French peasant girl, she +has a wonderful knowledge of the world and its ways." + +"Yes, hasn't she? I think I'm talking to a sage or a philosopher when +I'm with her, but really she's something higher altogether. I think +what she would say is that if we have right relations with God, He +plans for us. It's very puzzling. Practically I am beginning to be torn +into two. I want to go back and take up my life at home again, and yet +I want to stay here. The old Château and the village have crept into my +life. I want to see Aunt Cecily safely through her difficulties. I know +she has told you about them. She tells every one, so I am not betraying +her confidence. I keep wondering what I am to do. And I am not sure +enough of my right relationship to God to know if He will guide me. I +suppose He guides by circumstances?" + +Miss Preston smiled at Adrienne's anxious face. + +"Don't make me your Father Confessor. I'm an ignoramus like yourself +over religious doctrine and experience. But I'd give all I possess to +have little Agatha's faith and joy. I believe in her, ergo I believe in +her God." + +"So do I," Adrienne said thoughtfully; "I've never read my Bible so +much as since I've known her, and it is explaining things to me. But +I'm a long way off yet from where I want to be." + +"Tell me when you arrive there," said Miss Preston; "for I've turned +my back like Christian in 'Pilgrim's Progress' on what I used to +think were the best things in life. Whether I shall replace them with +immortal gifts remains to be seen." + +They were silent for a time, then resumed conversation upon lighter +topics. + +One liking they had in common, and that was attending the little +Protestant Service on Sunday mornings. + +Adrienne loved the long walk in the early mornings. She met Miss +Preston halfway. The Miss D'Aubignays and their sister Madame Passilles +were very friendly, and always pressed them to come to the house and +stay to lunch. Adrienne could never do this because of her aunt, but +Miss Preston did it occasionally, and told Adrienne afterwards that +Madame Passilles's talk and tracts drove her as far away from religion +as Agatha's talk brought her near. + +"She's well-meaning and earnest, but has no sympathy or tact. She +starts by impressing you that she is safely inside the Holy of Holies +and you are outside—well outside—an outcast and a sinner. That raises +my contradictious ire. I say things that I do not mean on purpose to +annoy her. I mustn't go to lunch with them again. It is bad for one's +temper. She has one, strange to say, and it's quite as hasty as mine." + +Adrienne tried to persuade her aunt to attend one of these services, +but nothing would induce her to hear of it, and she saw that she was +only irritating her by pursuing the subject. + + +And then one morning about six weeks after Guy's departure, Adrienne +received a wire. + + "Tom ill. Appendicitis. Want you home. Come at once.—DERRICK." + +It was a thunderbolt. Of course, when the Countess was told, there was +a terrible scene. + +"You can't leave me. I won't be left alone. If he has an operation, he +will be in a Nursing Home, and you can do no good. I dare say it is a +false alarm. Everyone thinks he ought to have appendicitis in these +days." + +"I must go, Aunt Cecily. I shall leave by this afternoon's train. +Nothing would induce me to stay away from either of my uncles if they +are ill. They have been like parents to me. Why don't you come with me? +He is your brother. If you cannot be left alone, come with me." + +But this was not to be heard of. The Countess wept and cried, she +coaxed, she implored, she entreated, but Adrienne seemed proof against +her pleadings. + +And then, as she was hastily packing her clothes into her portmanteau, +a sudden thought flashed into her mind. She ran off to her aunt's room. + +"Aunt Cecily, I am really going. I must. But would you like Bertha +Preston as a visitor till I come back? She likes you, and you like her. +I will ride off to her at once. I have time before déjeuner. I believe +she would come to you." + +The Countess was working herself into a fit of hysterics, but she +listened to this suggestion and was pleased to approve of it. + +"She will be better than no one, and you must promise me to return, +Adrienne. You said you would stay with me till Guy returned." + +"Oh, Aunt Cecily, not if he stayed away indefinitely. But we won't talk +about that now. I must go immediately to Bertha Preston. I only hope +she'll come." + +Off she rode as quickly as she could to Le Sourge, and fortunately +found Bertha at home. + +She was astonished and rather disconcerted at Adrienne's request. + +"I hardly know your aunt." + +"Oh, do come; I shall be so relieved. She likes you and will soon +forget me when she sits up and talks to you of the past. I know it's +asking a lot, but you did say to me the other day that you were getting +tired of your cottage life, and you would be doing us such a great +kindness. I am bound to go. I must. And Aunt Cecily really is not +fitted to live alone. She depends so much on having someone to talk to, +and someone who can do little things for her." + +"Oh, I'll come, if your aunt will put up with an old blasé woman +instead of a bright young girl. We'll try and get on together till you +come back. Don't you worry. Does she expect me this evening?" + +"Is it too soon? To-morrow will do. I don't leave till four this +afternoon." + +"Then I'll come to-morrow in time for déjeuner tell her; and if we fall +out, I can but return to my cottage. I'll do my best to keep her happy. +But she's a difficult subject. I hope you'll find your uncle through +the worst when you get home." + +"I'm in such a bustle that I can hardly think," said poor Adrienne. +"Good-bye and a thousand thanks. Write to me, won't you? I feel +responsible for Aunt Cecily till Cousin Guy comes back." + +Then she galloped home. She certainly did not have much time to think, +till the train was taking her towards Paris. She could hardly realize +that her French life was receding behind her. + +And what had at one time been her greatest desire now seemed to her a +trouble rather than a joy. She was really anxious about her uncles, and +that anxiety eclipsed all else. + +She arrived home late the next day. The car was outside the station +and in it, to her surprise, was the Admiral. He looked ill, and as he +kissed her affectionately, he said: + +"I felt bound to meet you myself, my dear; I could not have anyone else +break it to you." + +"What!" cried Adrienne with blanched cheeks. "Is it—is it serious?" + +"He has gone, dear child." + +The shock was great. Adrienne buried her face in her hands. + +"I never imagined—I cannot believe it," she sobbed. "Tell me all." + +"He was really taken ill in Norway. We hurried home, but the weather +was bad and we got delayed. There was a doctor on board, but you know +how your uncle hated doctors. He would have none of him. We stopped +in London, he was got into a Nursing Home and that very night they +operated, but it was too late, and he sank. I was with him and he sent +his love to you. I could not tell you in the wire. I brought him home +yesterday. The funeral is to-morrow." + +"Oh, poor Uncle Derrick! Poor Uncle Derrick!" + +Adrienne turned her tear-stained face towards her uncle. She forgot +everything except that he had lost the one being he loved most in the +world. + +The Admiral's face quivered. + +"Well," he said gently, "he was called away before me, and I always +thought I should go first. It is better so; he never would have managed +alone, a thorough bad business man. Poor Tom!" + +They came to the house, and the homely sweetness of it sent another +gush of tears to Adrienne's eyes. + +The dog sprang out to welcome her. The hall was filled with flowers. +The front door stood open and the striped sun-blinds were down. Inside +there was darkness and a hush. Drake met her with red eyelids. Adrienne +took his old hand in hers. + +"Oh, Drake, what shall we do without him!" she cried. + +The old butler choked a little. + +"God only knows, Miss Adrienne," he said huskily. + +She went into the library. + +The Admiral followed, and then sitting down, he began to give her the +details of the last sad week. + +"He felt he wouldn't get over the operation; he asked me to leave him +alone for half an hour before they came to take him to the Home. We +were at the Euston Hotel, and he added: + +"'To make my peace with God, old chap.' And then he spoke of you—said +he wished you could be in time. Of course I tried to cheer him up, and +told him we all expected him to pull through, but he shook his head." + +Adrienne listened with the tears running down her cheeks. She could +hardly believe that she would never hear again the hearty ringing +voice, the chuckling laugh, the boyish steps of her Uncle Tom. + +And then a little later she paid a visit to his room, where he lay +quiet and peaceful as if he had just fallen asleep. + +It was a sad time. She was so overwhelmed with the blow that she did +not write to her aunt till after the funeral was over. + +Her uncle Derrick seemed to depend upon her for everything; the blow +had fallen upon him the most heavily, but he was very quiet, saying +little of his own grief. Adrienne noted that he silently put away the +chessmen and board into a locked drawer, and she knew that he would +never touch the game again. She was glad that there was a certain +amount of business to be done, for it occupied him and kept him from +brooding. + +And she found her own time taken up with the many letters of sympathy +which had to be answered and which arrived by every post. She had seen +Godfrey at the funeral, and many other of her old friends; but she was +so busy in the house that she never left it, and when about ten days +after the funeral, Godfrey came to ask her if she would take a ride +with him, her uncle urged her to go. + +"You are looking so pale, my dear; it will do you good. You have been +too much confined to the house." + +So she went upstairs to get into her habit, her horse was ordered; and +Godfrey went into the library for a smoke with the Admiral, whilst +he waited for her. And Adrienne, whilst she was getting ready, was +thinking of her cousin Guy, and of the morning rides which she used to +take with him. They seemed so long ago! + +When Godfrey had first proposed the ride, she was about to refuse, but +he had turned to her appealingly: + +"I do want to have a talk with you so much. It is very personal." + +And now her thoughts passed from Guy to Godfrey. + +"I hope he is not going to bring up the old subject, and yet I almost +feel it would solve my difficulties. I must stay close to Uncle +Derrick now, and if I married Godfrey, it would be all so simple and +straightforward. Godfrey would make an ideal husband; he is so frank, +so true, so kind. Comparing him with Cousin Guy, I see now that he has +just what Guy is lacking in. He is so open and confiding; one feels +there is nothing behind him. Cousin Guy irritates me with his reserve +and silence, Godfrey is as open as the day. I believe if he proposes +again to me to-day, I shall say yes, and then I shall write to Aunt +Cecily and she will see that I cannot return to her." + +Planning out such a future for herself, she was surprised that she +did not feel more jubilant over it. Could it be possible, she asked +herself, that the old Château in its quiet village had crept into her +heart to stay there? She tried to put it from her, and ran lightly +downstairs equipped for her ride. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +AT HOME AGAIN + +GODFREY took her up to the moor. They talked first about her aunt in +France. + +"I thought we should never get you back," he said; "you have seemed to +be taking root there." + +"It has been very difficult," she responded. + +And she tried to give him some idea of her life in the old Château. + +He was a good listener, but somehow she did not fancy to-day that he +was quite so wrapped up in her life as he used to be, and presently she +paused: + +"Now tell me about yourself and all the village. I have seen no one—not +even Phemie. I almost thought she would have been round." + +"Well, she was waiting, she did not like to intrude. I want to tell you +about Phemie—and myself." + +In a flash Adrienne saw what was coming. It struck her like a blow. + +Godfrey was speaking in his frank, pleasant way. + +"I know you will be glad. When you sent me away from you the last time, +I felt I must take it like a man, and not pester you again. And somehow +or other Phemie has been coming to see Mother, and we've taken a few +rides together. And gradually our friendship has deepened, and I've +come to know her better than I've ever done before. I always liked her +as a friend, but she's more than that now. I had a little trouble with +Mother. I suppose all mothers are the same; they like their sons to +marry money, high birth, etc.; but she's really too fond of me to hold +out against my wishes, and she has become quite attached to Phemie!" + +"Oh, Godfrey, I'm so glad. Dear Phemie! She deserves to be made happy. +She has been so plucky over the farm, and it has been uncongenial work. +What does her mother say?" + +"She doesn't seem over-pleased. I'm afraid she will miss her, but she +works her like a galley slave. And I'm stopping a good bit of that. I +insist upon her coming out with me. You don't know how pretty she's +getting. She's losing all that worn, weary look about her eyes. She +wanted you to know, so I told her I would tell you to-day." + +"She'll make you the dearest wife! My best congrats, Godfrey. I'm very, +very glad." + +She listened whilst he went on to talk about his fiancée's perfections, +and when their ride was over, and Adrienne reached home again, she felt +as if all her world were falling to pieces. + +She knew she had not wanted Godfrey when he had wanted her; but in +spite of that, there was a little hurt feeling in her heart that he had +forgotten her so entirely, and was so completely satisfied with this +second choice of his. + +"I have only been away about three months," she told herself—"it is +barely that; yet he has put someone in my place with the greatest ease. +I always felt that he did not really and truly love me. I often told +him so, but he would not have it. I wonder what he would have said if +I had told him that I had become engaged to Cousin Guy. I might have, +if I'd taken him at his word. I almost believe that, if Godfrey had +not always been flitting through my background, I might have given Guy +a different answer. At all events I would not have snubbed him off +so promptly. And now I've lost them both, and I believe that I shall +be a single woman all my days! After all, there is nothing so very +attractive or fetching about me. I shan't have an unlimited number of +admirers haunting my steps." + +And then she shed a few tears, and tried to think they were for her +uncle Tom, and for the blank he had left behind him; but in reality she +knew that they were for herself, and she grew angry at the thought of +it, for she had so despised her Aunt Cecily's continual self-pity. + +She took up her old life again, yet her thoughts were continually +straying to the French village. The Admiral heard from his sister, who +was of course distressed at the loss of her brother. + +"I am quite sure you will send Adrienne back as soon as you can," she +wrote. "Miss Preston, who is with me, does her best; but Adrienne knew +my ways, and she is my niece, and has duties towards me. Why don't you +sell your house and come out here? Dear Tom was too boisterous for my +nerves, but I could give you the library here for your sanctum and you +could help me in my business matters, which seem in sad disorder. I +shall be glad to hear the conditions of Tom's will. I hope he did not +forget his only sister, who is left to struggle on with insufficient +means to keep her head above water." + +But the Countess was doomed to disappointment. General Chesterton and +his brother had mutually agreed to leave all they had to Adrienne. She +was almost entirely dependent on them, as her father, like his sister +Cecily, had spent more than he had saved. They considered that their +sister, who had received equal shares with them at their father's +death, was not as much in need of money as Adrienne. Meanwhile Adrienne +heard from Bertha Preston. + + "MY DEAR ADRIENNE,— + + "I want to report myself to you, as I am afraid I am not a great +success. Your capabilities and perfections are recounted to me day by +day. I strive to emulate you. I run round and do errands, and garden +and arrange flowers, and dust everything that I can lay my hands upon. +We take perambulations about the garden and wood. When I can, I sneak +off on my own, and visit little Agatha or call at my cottage. I am a +great walker, and am always happy in the open air. Your friend the +notary is closeted with your aunt continually. I fancy things are +coming to a climax. He tells her he must foreclose the mortgage. This +has been held over her head so long as a threat, that I think she does +not believe he will do it. But there's a nasty look in his eye which +means business. He evidently thinks the Count an ineffectual doll. He +said as much to me the other day, which rather amused me, as I have +seen him in quite another light. I asked your aunt what she would do +when the time came for her to leave the Château. She looked quite +scared, but evidently has been thinking the matter over, for she told +me this morning that she would go straight to her flat in Orleans until +her stepson bought it back for her. She has little idea of the tenacity +and purpose of the village notary. Did you know she has mortgaged the +furniture of the Château as well as the pictures? I told her that Van +Dyck's portrait was worth a fortune. It seems a pity that it should +go out of the family. Well—I must close. I hope you are well. We talk +about you continually and I have many inquiries after you from the +villagers. + + "Yours affectionately, + + "BERTHA PRESTON." + +Adrienne felt very uneasy after receiving this letter. She showed it to +her uncle, who calmly said that the sooner his sister got rid of the +Château the better. + +"It has always been a white elephant to her. She will be much happier +in Orleans. We begged her long ago to get rid of it. In every way she +will be better off in Orleans; she will be away from this scheming +lawyer of hers." + +"But, Uncle Derrick, I can't bear to think of the Château in his hands, +and all its possessions. It is iniquitous! Oh if you knew it as I do, +you would feel differently! I have learnt to love it. It is so mellow, +so ancient; it seems to smile serenely in its decay. There's such a +sense of peace and rest in it. There's a favourite seat of mine in the +woods above it, where I sit and look down upon it, and think of all +that has happened in it in the past. Cousin Guy told me one day that +in their family records there was no deed of cruelty or of violence +that had ever been committed inside its walls, and the atmosphere feels +full of peace. I can't bear to think of it falling into the Bouveries' +hands." + +"My dear child," said her uncle, rather surprised at this outburst, "I +had no idea that it had got such possession of you. We can do nothing +to help your aunt, I fear. Tom and I were continually sending her money +after her husband's death, but at last we stopped, for we judged it was +no real help to her." + +"I have money now," said Adrienne thoughtfully; "I wonder—" + +"No, it's not to be thought of. I am getting an old man, and you +will have yourself to provide for; you must not spend your money on +bolstering up a ruin." + +"Oh, but it isn't a ruin, that's what makes it so sad. It only wants +decorating and painting. The walls and roof and all the rooms are sound +and good. But I couldn't buy it. Mr. Bouverie wants it for himself and +he would ask a fabulous price for it. What I am really concerned about +is Van Dyck's picture. Cousin Guy told Aunt Cecily he would not let +that go out of the family." + +"Then let him come back and get it. Where is he?" + +"I don't know. He gave me his banker's address in New York, in case of +anything urgent. I will write to them to-day. I think I will enclose +him Bertha's letter. I am so thankful she is there. I should be +miserable if Aunt Cecily were alone." + +"Do you want to go back to her?" her uncle asked her in his quiet voice. + +Adrienne laid her hand upon his arm. + +"Uncle Derrick, do you think I would or could leave you? I did wonder +whether you would like to accept Aunt Cecily's invitation and go there +for a visit. I should love you to see it all." + +"I'm afraid I shouldn't care to do that," said the Admiral slowly. "Tom +paid her a visit once, and it was a dead failure. No, my dear, I feel +that Cecily and I like each other best at a distance. But if you feel +you would like to go over again for a bit, you mustn't mind me. I can +get on very well alone." + +"That's your unselfish outlook. I'm not going to leave you at present. +I couldn't." + +She wrote to her cousin Guy that same day, enclosed Bertha Preston's +letter, and told him that at present she was tied to her uncle. + + "He feels Uncle Tom's death intensely," she wrote; "and I cannot leave +him alone. He has more claim upon me than Aunt Cecily, but somehow or +other I feel torn in two; and I do want you to save the darling Château +from the Bouveries if you can. Surely his rope is long enough now to +hang him? I can't help hoping that you will save the situation. It is +critical now, and that is why I am writing to you." + +She was relieved when this letter went. + + +One day, when the Admiral was away on business, Adrienne rode over to +see Phemie. She had had a note from her telling her of her happiness, +but saying it was harvest time and consequently a very busy time at the +farm. + +She found her baking bread in the delightful kitchen. Mrs. Moray +was in the cornfields, and so was Dick. The girls kissed each other +affectionately. + +"Why, Phemie, I don't know you! You look at least ten years younger." + +"I wish I could return the compliment. Nothing would take away your +good looks, or your happy eyes, but you are thin and a little worn. I +am afraid you have had a sad home-coming." + +"It is sad," said Adrienne, sitting down on the low window-seat, and +removing her hat, letting the breeze from the open window fan her +heated temples. "The house is a different place without Uncle Tom. It +seems so silent and grave! Uncle Derrick is very quiet, and I feel +getting very old and quiet too." + +"But you mustn't!" said Phemie energetically. "It's all wrong. You +have your life before you, and you're young, younger than I. Oh, +Adrienne, I cannot sometimes believe that my happiness is real! I have +always looked upon Godfrey as an ideal modern knight; he is so good, +so generous, so courteous to all, and the poorer and humbler a person +is, the more he goes out of his way to befriend them. I used to look +upon him as your particular property, and when I found you did not care +about him, I felt angry with you; I was indignant because you could not +appreciate him. And then, when you went away, we were thrown together, +and I still thought it was only his kindness of heart towards one who +was in a very monotonous and unpalatable groove. It was almost too much +for me, when he came to close quarters and asked me to be his wife. + +"At first I was terrified of his mother. I know it was an awful blow +to her, and I must say she has been most wonderfully forbearing and +kind. And if she was taken aback by it, you can imagine what Mother was +like. We had an awful scene. She said the farm would have to be given +up, and that if I deserted her, she would wash her hands of the whole +concern. Do you know, I didn't think Dick had it in him. He showed up +most wonderfully. Told Mother that my future prospects came before the +farm, that he did not intend to give it up if she did, and that he was +thankful that my life of toil was going to cease. He told Mother there +were plenty of land girls and labourers' daughters or wives who could +take my place, and that the farm was doing so well that hired labour +was now a possible thing. + +"Mother calmed down then, and had a wonderful talk with me afterwards. +She owned up that she had driven us both, but that she was so afraid we +would take after our father, who drifted through life without any idea +of steady application or work! She always makes me angry when she talks +about Father; but my own happiness has made me more sympathetic, I +think, and I tried to see her side. She said that Dick was turning out +as she had hoped for, and that if he could see his way through without +my help, she would be willing to spare me, and would get some land girl +or woman to help her. + +"She made me laugh; she said, 'I'll take care not to get one of these +pretty flighty girls who will be setting their caps at Dick. I'll +pick out the plainest and homeliest that I can find. Strength and +cleanliness are the chief things I want in them.'" + +Phemie paused, then in a different tone she said: + +"Oh, Adrienne, when I think that I shall have leisure time! Time for +the best part of me to be refreshed. When I shall be able to paint, to +read, to be able to enjoy some of the beauty in the world which I had +put behind me! Well, I just can't believe it. I'm so terribly afraid I +may wake up and find it a dream!" + +"Dear Phemie, I'm so thankful, so glad!" + +And in her heart Adrienne was; she told herself that the life unfolding +before Phemie was so gloriously full for her, that she was only +thankful that she had not marred it in any way. + +Yet before she left Phemie, she plucked up courage and said to her: + +"You'll forgive me, if I ask you whether Godfrey is more to you than +the life of ease and comfort which he offers you. Would you go to him +if you both had to work hard for your living?" + +Phemie flashed an indignant look at her friend. + +"I'm not demonstrative by nature, Adrienne, I take after Mother in +that; but do you think me so despicably mean as to take from Godfrey +all his good things, and not give him my heart, my life, my all? He has +always been my secret king and hero. But I naturally kept such feelings +to myself." + +"Phemie dear, it was impertinent of me, but Godfrey and I have grown +up together, and he does deserve a wife who will do what I cannot do, +love and adore him. I can't tell you how happy I shall be. Two of my +greatest friends coming together like this!" + +She rode home assuring herself that she was deeply content, and yet in +the bottom of her heart there was rather a lonely deserted feeling, +as if all her friends were leaving her—that she would no longer be +necessary to them. + +"Well, I have Uncle Derrick, nothing will touch our love," she said to +herself, and she went back to him with sunshine in her eyes and smile. + +Two or three weeks passed. Adrienne devoted herself to her uncle; +she got out her old songs and sang them to him in the evenings, the +time of day in which they most missed the General; she rode out with +him, and brought her work into the library when he was poring over +his books and pedigrees. And all the time her thoughts were in the +little French village, wondering if Bertha were getting tired of the +incessant demands made upon her time, whether Agatha and she held long +conversations together, whether Gaspard was keeping the rose-beds +weeded, whether the small vineyards on the sloping hill were showing +signs of a good vintage, and whether the Bouveries were really making +preparation for taking possession Of the Château. + +At last she heard from Bertha that her aunt was going to make her usual +autumn move into her Orleans flat. + + "She is playing a kind of game with herself and everyone else," wrote +Bertha, "by insisting that this is her usual move, and that she will be +returning in the spring, but I happen to know that Monsieur Bouverie +has promised her to wait to take possession till she has gone, and +that he means to move in directly she has done so. She is writing to +you to implore you to come back and help her with the move. She will +not trust me as she trusts you. Do you not think you could come for a +week or two? You need not go to Orleans with her. I believe she will be +happy there. And I really cannot stay much longer. I have heard from an +invalid cousin of mine who wants me to go to the Riviera with her the +end of September. If I do so, I shall have to be shutting up my cottage +and getting rid of my bits of furniture. I do not care to live there +now. But I must justify my existence by being of some use to someone, +so think my cousin's proposal fits in." + +The following day Adrienne had the usual hysterical effusion from +her aunt, and after reading over both these letters to her uncle, he +advised her to go over for a week or two. + +"And don't be miserable, my dear child, over that old Château, but be +thankful that your aunt will no longer have such an incubus." + +"Oh, Uncle Derrick," said Adrienne with a laugh and a sigh, "you don't +know its charms. It will be a hard wrench to me to say good-bye to it. +I am still hoping it may be saved. I have been calculating the time. If +Cousin Guy received my letter, he might be on the way home." + +"I believe he went away to make it easy for your aunt. I know he thinks +she is mistaken in living on there; and when he is at hand, she bleeds +him, and convinces herself that he will not see her turned out." + + +So in a very few days' time, Adrienne crossed the Channel once more. +She could leave her uncle with an easy mind for a week or two. He was a +man who was always occupied, and he told her that he had a good deal of +business to see to in town, connected with his brother's estate. + +The glories of an early autumn were tinting the trees and hedges, and +wrapping the woods and distant hills in a golden haze, when Adrienne +arrived at her destination. + +She had an unpleasant moment or two at the station, for Monsieur and +Madame Bouverie were seeing friends off in the train for Orleans. + +Madame Bouverie affected not to see Adrienne at first and called out in +her shrill French voice: + +"Au revoir, Nancie; next time you visit us, you will find us +comfortably installed in the Château, I hope. Ah! What a work is before +us, bringing that mouldy old place up to date, but we shall do it. +Inside and out you will be astonished at the metamorphosis!" Then with +a triumphant smile she turned and nodded affably to Adrienne. + +"You have returned to help your aunt pack up. So glad to see you." + +Adrienne felt her bow was stiff; she passed out to where the car was +waiting for her with hot indignation in her heart. But as she passed +along the familiar lanes, and noted the tiny green shuttered houses, +the purple bloom of the grapes on the sloping hills, and heard once +more the melodious bells of the oxen passing along with their loads, +she said to herself with a little glow within her: + +"This has become my second home. How I love it all!" + +It was a lovely afternoon; she glided up the old avenue, and noted the +golden tints on the trees, and then came upon the old Château mellow +and stately still. Tea was on the terrace and her aunt and Bertha +Preston were both waiting to welcome her. + +Nothing marred the warmth of that welcome. Adrienne felt that her aunt +was really attached to her, and old Pierre hovered about with a pleased +smile on his withered face. He had gathered a dish of golden plums in +honour of her return and she turned to thank him with her bright smile, +but was rather taken aback to see his old eyes fill with tears. He +hobbled off, furtively brushing the sleeve of his coat across his eyes. +To Adrienne it seemed impossible that the old Château was going to pass +away from the de Beaudesserts, and certainly her aunt seemed strangely +unaware of the fact. She was all smiles and graciousness, telling +Adrienne bits of local news, and asking with a little sympathy in her +tone after her brother. + +"It does not do to be bound up so entirely in one another as he and Tom +were," she said with a sigh; "they were two inseparables! Of course +Derrick must miss Tom tremendously." + +"Yes, I could not bear to leave him; but he will be in London for a +week or two over business matters, and I shall soon be back again." + +The Countess shook her head at her: + +"I am going to introduce you to Orleans society, and shall not let you +go in a hurry. I have told Miss Preston of some plans I have in my +head." + +"When are you going?" Adrienne asked. + +"As soon as you can get me packed. I don't like autumn in the country, +and the fall of the leaf is not healthy." + +"Have you heard from Cousin Guy?" + +"Not for weeks. He is always a bad correspondent. It is most +inconsiderate of him staying away at this juncture, when I specially +want him. I do not know where he is, or what he is doing. I have only +his banker's address." + +After tea, Adrienne went up to her room and Bertha accompanied her. + +She settled herself down in a big easy-chair by the window for a +good talk. The Countess had gone to her room to turn out some of her +wardrobes ready for Adrienne's inspection. Annette went with her to +help her. + +"My dear Adrienne, your aunt is a marvel. She can turn from +disagreeables and forget all about them within ten minutes. We had +awful scenes this morning with Pierre and his family. It appears that +Monsieur Bouverie has been interviewing them and asking them if the +Countess has given them notice to leave. He told them he would not +require their services, and he hoped to take possession of the Château +on the fifteenth of next month. That will be barely three weeks from +to-day. They all arrived up in your aunt's room in tears. She got very +agitated, and alarmed, dissolved into tears herself and then waved them +all away. + +"' The Count will be back. He'll put things all right. You need not be +afraid. I leave you as usual to take care of the Château in my absence. +Monsieur Bouverie is trying to frighten you. You really must not come +and upset me like this. My heart won't stand it. The sooner I am in +Orleans the better. Mademoiselle is coming to take me there." + +"She then cheered up, and has been extra cheerful all day. Can you +understand her? Monsieur Bouverie is absolutely determined, and within +his rights, he tells me, to take the Château on the fifteenth of +October." + +"It's all perfectly dreadful," said Adrienne; "I can understand Aunt +Cecily's mind a little. She has always been under dread of this time +coming, but she has slipped through so many of her troubles that +she expects to slip through this. And even I don't believe Monsieur +Bouverie will be successful in wresting the property from us. I somehow +think that Cousin Guy will prevent it." + +"Has your cousin been playing a game?" Bertha asked. "Because the +Bouveries talk of him and think of him as an indolent dreamy fool, a +good farmer, but with no love for his old house, and with no intention +of saving it. I should call him a masterful, keen-witted man, who would +let nobody get the better of him in business matters!" + +"Yes," said Adrienne; "that is him. And I rely upon him to return +in time to circumvent the Bouveries. I am not going to make myself +miserable before it is necessary. Let us enjoy these lovely days, +Bertha." + +"My dear, I must be off to-morrow. But I shall be at Le Sourge for a +week or two yet. I have to pack up too. We shall see each other, I +hope, several times before you leave." + +The rest of the evening passed quietly. The Countess talked much of +Orleans and of her flat, and from hints she let drop, and from a little +confidence on Bertha's part, Adrienne was made aware that her aunt +intended to make a match for her with a certain young Baron in Orleans. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +WHY THE COUNT WENT AWAY + +THE days that followed were like a calm before a storm. Adrienne went +to see her village friends. They all told her how glad they were to see +her back. Strangely enough, with all their love of gossip they none of +them referred to what was well known in the village, the transfer of +the Château to Monsieur Bouverie. One or two of them asked Adrienne a +little anxiously: + +"And when will the Comte be back?" + +She only shook her head. + +"We don't know. It is uncertain." + +She paid little Agatha a visit very soon. + +The sick girl took hold of her hands in her earnest, demonstrative way: + +"Ah, dear Mademoiselle, how we have missed you! And you have been +through sorrow. But you are learning Who can comfort." + +"How do you know I am, Agatha?" + +"By your eyes. They are not only joyously happy, that they have always +been, but a deep contented rest has crept into your soul, and it shows +itself." + +"Yes, Agatha," said Adrienne in a low voice, "I have I think, very +feebly linked myself on to the One you know and love." + +"Or shall we say He has very strongly linked you on Himself," said +Agatha with her serene smile. + +"Yes, that is better. That is what He has done. He has drawn me to His +Feet and forgiven me there, and made me one of His sheep." + +"And you have only to hear His Voice and follow now—Mademoiselle, I +rejoice so much in your joy." + +"It has come so gradually," said Adrienne; "I can't tell you when +or how, only after many prayers I have stopped doubting, and now am +trusting. Oh, Agatha, if only—only my Aunt could realize it, how happy +she might be!" + +"Give to her, as you have been given to," said Agatha; "it is so easy +to enter the Kingdom, if you'll take the Bon Seigneur at His Word." + +Adrienne came away from her feeling in tune with the whole world; she +was serenely conscious of a new joy and a new purpose in her life. + + +Her aunt sighed as she heard her singing about the Château. + +"Ah, if only I were young and gay again!" + +The packing up progressed steadily, but the Countess still persisted in +thinking that she would return to the Château again. Secretly Adrienne +began to empty drawers and wardrobes and stow the contents away into +travelling trunks, and meanwhile every post was watched for anxiously. + +Madame Bouverie haunted the place; she would push herself in on the +merest pretext, and begin measuring furtively rooms and windows. + +"Ah, Mademoiselle," she said to Adrienne one day, "it will be a relief +to your dear aunt to have the care of such a big place no longer. +When one has not the money it is heartrending. We shall have to spend +thousands on this place to make it habitable—thousands!" + +Adrienne had difficulty in giving a polite response. She knew it was of +no use to argue with her, and pride forbade her to plead. + + +At last things were in train for the Countess to leave for Orleans. + +And then one afternoon about three o'clock, Adrienne, who had been out +in the garden gathering a few late roses, came into the Château to hear +voices in the corridor upstairs. + +Pierre came forward with a troubled look upon his face: + +"It is Monsieur Bouverie with some gentleman from Paris. I think it is +a foreign gentleman who wants to buy our Van Dyck." + +When Pierre was agitated, he would associate himself with the family he +loved and served. + +The flush mounted into Adrienne's cheeks and fire into her eyes. +Without a word, she sprang upstairs, and confronted a little group +gathered round the famous picture. + +"May I ask what you are doing, Monsieur Bouverie?" + +She stood like a young queen before them, her voice haughty and cold, +her eyes sparkling dangerously. + +"I have just brought a gentleman to see this picture," said Monsieur +Bouverie, a little defiantly. + +[Illustration: She stood like a young queen before them, her voice +haughty and cold. + _Adrienne]_ _[Chapter XIII]_ + +"With the Countess's permission?" asked Adrienne. + +"Well, really, Mademoiselle, I told Pierre not to trouble her. It is +not worth it. Mr. Bullivant from New York was only able to come to-day, +otherwise I should not have brought him till next Tuesday." + +"This picture is not for sale, so I do not know why he should be +brought here." + +Adrienne's tone was hard and cold. + +"Excuse me, Mademoiselle," said Monsieur Bouverie, an ugly gleam coming +into his eyes, "this picture will be in my possession in two days' +time; and as I intend to sell it, I am letting a possible purchaser see +it now." + +"This picture will never be in your possession. It belongs to the Count +de Beaudessert, and he is, as you know, at present away from home." + +There was a dead silence. + +Then the American said a little anxiously turning towards the notary: + +"Is there some misapprehension somewhere?" + +"Mademoiselle," said Monsieur Bouverie, beginning to get excited. "You +take too much upon yourself; you are creating false impressions. The +Countess has sold me this picture with the Château. I have taken all +the pictures and furniture with it. The Château itself is nearly a +ruin. It is its contents which I value. I have it all here in writing +with her signature. I am not likely to do anything illegal." + +But Adrienne stood firm: + +"The Countess had no power to sell this picture or mortgage it, for it +is not hers. You cannot give away another's property." + +Then, as Monsieur Bouverie began to splutter and storm, Adrienne called +out suddenly and sharply to Pierre: + +"Pierre, show these gentlemen out, and remember that we intend now to +admit no one into the Château whilst we are in it." + +Then she gave a little bow to the American, and said to him in English: + +"I am sorry that you have been misinformed, sir, about this picture. It +does not belong to Monsieur Bouverie, and the Count my cousin does not +intend to sell it. He has told me so. I will wish you good afternoon." + +She walked away from them, then stood at the top of the staircase +watching them go down and out of the front door. + +Monsieur Bouverie was shaking with rage, and volubly explaining, and +denouncing Adrienne's interference. + +Then Adrienne issued her commands to Pierre: + +"Lock and bolt all the outside doors. We intend to see no one except +perhaps Miss Preston or the Curé. We must keep a closed door till we +go." + +She said nothing to her aunt of what she had done. She felt ashamed and +indignant that the Countess had weakly deceived her stepson and had +tried to part with the one possession he prized. And she did not want +to upset her in these last days. The Countess was sleeping badly, and +at last was beginning to realize that this move would be different to +the usual autumnal flitting. But Adrienne realized that she had made +an open enemy of the notary. It was war to the knife between them now, +and she was beginning to be frightened of the responsibility lying upon +her shoulders. She did not know how to remove the picture and where to +take it. It was a very large one, and would require a frame and a van +to transfer it to her aunt's flat. She thought of the farm, but feared +that Monsieur Bouverie would forcibly remove it from there. + +Half an hour later, she was standing in the hall talking to Pierre +about it. It was nearly time for her aunt to appear for tea, which they +were having in the salon now, as it was getting too cold to sit out of +doors. + +Pierre was delighted at the unceremonious way in which Monsieur +Bouverie had received his exit. And when they suddenly heard a violent +ring and a still more violent knocking at the door, both he and +Adrienne thought it might be Monsieur Bouverie returning to the attack, +with his legal papers all in form. + +"Let him knock a bit, Mademoiselle; it will cool his blood," said +Pierre, almost dancing with excitement on the tips of his old toes. + +But through one of the hall windows Adrienne caught sight of a tall +figure and she knew it was not the little notary. + +"Open immediately, Pierre. I believe, oh I believe it is the Count." + +It was, and, as Guy strode in, he looked puzzled and perplexed. + +"Are you in a state of siege here?" he asked. "I have never known this +front door locked and barred before five o'clock at this time of year." + +Adrienne sprang forward and seized hold of his hand: + +"Oh, Cousin Guy, how glad I am to see you! I might have known you would +not be too late, but you have driven it very close." + +"I started directly I got your letter, but our boat was delayed, and +I have had other difficulties to overcome. How are you all? I hoped +to see you here, but was not certain. I was sorry to hear about the +General." + +"Yes," said Adrienne, drawing a long breath; "a lot has happened since +you went; but oh, I can think of nothing but of your return. Everything +will be all right now; why did I doubt it?" + +They had no further talk together, for the Countess suddenly appeared. +She was as glad and relieved as Adrienne was, but in her own way she +did not let him know it. + +"Why have you stayed away so long? Everything has gone from bad to +worse. And now Monsieur Bouverie is turning me out of this, and says he +is coming to live here himself. Imagine Madame Bouverie in this salon +dispensing hospitality. What am I to do? Not a penny to spend. What are +you going to do?" + +"Nothing to-night, ma mère. To-morrow we'll have a good talk and see if +we can't right things." + +His eyes were on Adrienne as he spoke. She looked in her black gown +very fair and sweet. With a pretty grace she was presiding over the +tea-tray. Happiness shone in her grey eyes, but she noted that there +were weary lines upon her cousin's face, and though he leant back +easily in his chair and began to talk of trifles, there was grim +determination in the set of his lips, as if he were anticipating an +unpleasant struggle with his stepmother's lawyer. + +"Where have you been all this time?" demanded the Countess. + +He smiled at her. "I've been scouring British Columbia and a good bit +of Canada for something I wanted. And I found it at last." + +"Some new machines for farming, I suppose," said his stepmother. + +She expressed no further interest in his doings, but asked him if he +were putting up at the farm. + +"Yes; I have only just come up to report myself to you. I must not dine +here to-night. I want to see Grougan, and have an appointment with him +at six." + +"That's your lawyer from Orleans? If he had been my lawyer instead of +Bouverie, we should not have come to such a pass." + +"But," said Guy with raised eyebrows, "I begged you to have him three +years ago, and you would not." + +"How could I when Monsieur Bouverie held everything of mine in his +hands and understood it all so well?" + +Guy relapsed into silence. Then when he had finished his tea, he said +to Adrienne: + +"Will you walk to the farm with me? Have you had a walk to-day? Will ma +mère spare you?" + +"Oh yes, go," said the Countess a little impatiently to Adrienne. "And +make him see my side of things, Adrienne. If he values his father's +home at all, he will make some effort to keep it." + +When a little later Adrienne set out down the drive with Guy, she felt +tongue-tied. She had so much to say that she hardly knew where to begin. + +Guy was silent for the first few minutes himself, but he soon spoke: + +"Well, little cousin, my time has come. To-morrow afternoon the tug of +war will begin; my lawyer versus Bouverie. But to-morrow morning, I +must have a very plain talk with ma mère. We must have no repetition of +these mortgages if we once get clear of them." + +"Oh, Cousin Guy, take the Château over yourself. You must. It is the +only way. If you can only afford it, do keep it yourself." + +"That is precisely what I have always meant to do, but ma mère would +not have relinquished it until she was driven to the last extremity. +You will hear my plans to-morrow." + +"Now I must tell you about your picture," said Adrienne. "I have not +told Aunt Cecily, and I don't know if I took too much upon myself. +Listen!" + +She recounted to him the events of the afternoon. + +Guy listened with his imperturbable face, and when she had finished +said: + +"Thank you, little cousin. I think you showed great pluck and presence +of mind. Best not talk to ma mère about it. She looks very frail." + +"Yes, I have really been anxious about her. Any great shock would be +disastrous, I believe, to her. I needn't ask you to be patient with +her, because you always are. In some ways you're a marvel!" + +"She mustn't have a shock, eh?" + +Guy stopped in his long strides. They had come to the gate of the farm, +and he pointed to the house. + +"In there I have something that may be a surprise to her. I hardly +think it could be a shock. My experience of your aunt is that she is +so detached from every one but herself, that other people's lives and +fortunes do not interest her or affect her." + +"I think you are right there," said Adrienne slowly. Then her eyes +wandered to the farm. + +Guy followed her gaze. + +"It is what I went to find," he said. "Come along, and you will be +enlightened." + +Adrienne followed him up the narrow path. It was an unpretentious, +small farmhouse, with whitewashed walls and blue slate roof, but it +looked very sweet in the autumn sunshine. There was a minute grass +plot, in front of which a small boy and a big dog were disporting +themselves. + +As they came up the boy sprang to his feet, then planted himself a +little defiantly, his back against the door, upon the doorstep. He was +a pretty child with a shock of dark curls upon his head, and a small +pointed face. For a moment Adrienne thought he must be some belonging +of the farmer's, and then, as she looked again, his whole bearing and +dress did not betoken a peasant child. + +"This is my small son," said Guy gravely. "Shake hands, Alain, with +this lady." + +The child's large frank eyes met Adrienne's, and his face softened as +he saw her smile. + +With a little foreign bow, he raised her hand gently to his lips and +kissed it. + +Adrienne stood still and gazed at him. She could find no words to say. + +"I should have been back sooner," said Guy in his imperturbable voice, +"if it had not been for this small person. I had a tremendous job in +finding him, and a difficult job in bringing him away. The people he +was with were quite willing to part with him, but he was not willing to +come, and I had to spend several days with him before I could inspire +him with the necessary confidence to come with me happily. Even now he +looks upon me with suspicion; he is not quite sure whether I have not a +rod in pickle for him up my sleeve." + +Adrienne drew the child to her. + +"Why, there is nothing of you, Alain," she said tenderly; "you will get +fat and jolly now that you are with your Daddy." She was looking at his +tiny arms and legs, which were like sticks, and the boy looked down at +himself and up at her. + +"Aunt Susy always said I ran too much to get fat. Who are you? I like +you." + +"I'm your cousin—Cousin Adrienne." + +She sat down in the little porch, and he climbed upon her knee and +began fingering her white ivory beads. + +"Is this your rosary? I have a rosary in a little box which once +belonged to a mother of mine. Did you know I had a mother? When I was a +baby I had. And she gave me to Aunt Susy before she went to heaven and +Aunt Susy said she'd always wanted a little boy like me. But I never +knew I had any father except the Bon Dieu in Heaven." + +Here he stole a glance at the Count, who was leaning against an old +apple tree and watching them. + +"You have an awfully nice father, Alain," said Adrienne under her +breath. + +"I shall get to know him soon," said Alain wistfully; "but he's very +tall and strong and strange to me. Aunt Susy's husband was a little fat +man, always laughing. He and I played in the hay together." + +"Well," said Guy, coming forward, "will he be a shock to your aunt, do +you think?" + +"Does she know that you are married?" + +"That I was, you mean," said Guy, and a little bitter smile crossed his +lips. "No, she does not; it was but a ten months' interlude, a sudden +venture, a swift regret. Frankly I had no idea that this small person +existed. I had been told that he had died as a baby. The woman who +took him from his mother coveted him and kept him, and wrote giving me +particulars of his death. Now she's at the point of death herself, and +glad to relinquish the care of him." + +"And you heard about him, and went off to America to hunt for him?" +said Adrienne. "Why did not you tell us?" + +"Because I was not sure of my facts. I suppose Miss Preston has been +discreet and told you nothing? She could give you particulars, for it +was through her brother that I learnt of the existence of my son. I +had reason to believe that my wife left me to run off with him; but I +discovered that it was to his great friend she went." + +"And is she dead?" Adrienne asked in a dazed sort of way. + +"She died eight years ago, three months after she left me. Caught a +chill in Florence, and the boy spent two years of his life there with +his foster-mother, who returned to America with him later. That is his +history. His foster-mother was a superior woman, had been nurse to his +mother before, and so has trained him in manners and morals. He misses +her, of course, and old Henriette here doesn't understand children." + +"But you won't keep him here? He must come to the Château," said +Adrienne quickly. + +"My plans are not made yet," replied Guy gravely. + +Adrienne got up from her seat, and gently put the child off her lap. + +"I must go now. I hear the little chapel bell ringing in the village +and Aunt Cecily will be wondering where I am. May I congratulate you, +Cousin Guy, upon having someone of your own to love and care for? We +shall see you to-morrow morning." + +"Yes. If you like to prepare your aunt for my news, you can do so. If +not, I will break it to her when I come." + +As she sped away homewards her thoughts were in confusion. Never had +she imagined her cousin to be a married man—a widower! And she resented +his reserve on this point. When he had spoken to her, before leaving +for America, was it this sudden bit of news, this knowledge that he had +a small child somewhere, which made him do it? Did he suddenly feel he +must have a home and a woman to take care of it and of the child? + +"He seems so cold, so passionless, as if he has no love left in him, +and yet I suppose his unhappy experience has embittered him. Cousin Guy +with a child! Well, it is an astounding state of things. What on earth +will he do with the poor little soul? I'm afraid Aunt Cecily won't +welcome him." + +With such thoughts as these, she wended her way homewards. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE NOTARY'S DEFEAT + +"AUNT CECILY, did you know that Cousin Guy was married?" + +The Countess looked her astonishment as Adrienne put this question to +her after dinner. + +"No; but I should never be surprised at anything he did," she said, +recovering her equanimity very quickly. "He is very reserved and +secretive. Who has been talking to you?" + +"He has. I think he will tell you about it himself to-morrow. I don't +know the rights of it, but it evidently was not a happy marriage, as +she left him very soon, and died a few months later." + +"I believe," the Countess said thoughtfully, "that dear Philippe +must have known it. I dare say he did not care to trouble me with +the details. I never cared for Guy or for his concerns. But dear +Philippe said to me when he lay dying: 'My dearest, if we ever have +grandchildren, I should like them to know this home of theirs!' I did +not pay much attention then; but really Guy may have a dozen children +for all I know." + +"He has not a dozen," said Adrienne very quietly; "but he has one. He +thought the child was dead, then heard he was not, and went off to +America to look for him." + +"And has he found it? Is it a boy or a girl?" + +The Countess was sitting up in her chair now and looking interested. + +"A boy. He is at the farm. I saw him this evening. Cousin Guy said I +could tell you. You will be able to hear about it all to-morrow." + +"A boy!" + +The Countess repeated it to herself, then subsided upon her cushions +again. + +"I really don't see that his family has anything to do with us, +Adrienne. He must board him out somewhere if he is small. French +children generally have foster-mothers, you know. It doesn't concern +us. I cannot imagine Guy with a child to look after. But it is treating +me very strangely to withhold this information from me. I always say he +is a most unnatural stepson. I ought to have been told before." + +Adrienne tried to soothe her ruffled feelings. She was relieved to +find that Guy was right in his conjectures; that his stepmother would +not be disturbed by his news. The child itself was of no interest to +her. She did not even ask Adrienne for a description of him, and in a +few moments she was full of her Orleans friends, and she kept up an +animated conversation with Adrienne till bedtime over the possible +gaieties when she had settled in her flat. + +The next morning Guy arrived over for his business talk. But the +Countess would not discuss any business before déjeuner. At twelve +o'clock they adjourned to the library and then Guy plunged into the +matter in hand. He told his stepmother that his lawyer held many proofs +of Monsieur Bouverie's dishonesty, that he meant to have the matter +cleared up, and that at three o'clock that afternoon both lawyers were +coming to have an interview with him at the Château. + +"There is no doubt," said Guy gravely, "that I shall be able to prevent +him taking possession here next Tuesday, but the question is, ma mère, +about yourself. What are your wishes about continuing to live here? +Do you not prefer Orleans? In the winter I know you do; and I should +suggest your making no alteration in your plans, but go there on the +date you have settled. But would you like to return next summer?" + +"I may not be alive then," said the Countess, feeling for her +handkerchief. "Of course I do not wish to be turned out of my dear +husband's home. Is it likely that I should? It is the dreadful penury +in which I live which is my greatest trial." + +"Well—now listen to me, ma mère. I am hoping I shall be able to square +things up, and we'll make a fresh start, but with this difference: that +I take over the Château as well as the farm and run it on my own. You +have tried to do it and have failed. Now I'll have a try and hope I +may succeed. I have changed in my views somewhat—lately. I'm tired of +a roving life and I mean to settle down. If I go away at all, it will +be for a couple of months in the winter. I want to relieve you of the +whole care and responsibility of this place. If buy it back, or get +it back from your little notary, it must be for myself, but with the +understanding that, for as long as you live, you can consider it as +your home. I will pay for all repairs, all wages; I will run the house +on my own lines, and I see that I shall have to spend a good sum on +outside decoration as well as the inside. I shall welcome you every +summer as my guest—in fact, at any time of the year you like to come; +but as far as money goes, you will have your own marriage settlement, +which has not been touched by this scoundrel, and I think I shall be +able to afford you from the estate an extra two hundred a year. Will +this suit you? I think you will enjoy the freedom of all care and +anxiety. And you ought to be able to live comfortably on your income in +your Orleans flat." + +The Countess listened to her stepson rather more quietly than he had +expected; she appeared to be weighing it in her mind, for she was +absolutely silent for a few minutes. Then she said: + +"And how will you, a man, be able to run this big house satisfactorily? +I little thought that, after promising me I could have this for my +life, you would now be turning me out." + +"No, ma mère, Monsieur Bouverie has turned you out. You have sold the +Château to him. Your possession comes to an end. If I buy it back, I +buy it back for myself. But you can still look upon it as your home. +Your rooms will be always ready for you. Everything in them that you +have always had." + +"Beggars can't be choosers," said the Countess bitterly; "I must agree, +of course. How can I do otherwise?" + +Then she changed her tone, and spoke with flashing eyes. + +"It's a pity that you try to deceive yourself and me by saying you +have changed your views, and after giving me to understand all these +years that you had no affection for the place, now intend to settle +down here. There is one detail you have omitted to mention in your +change of plans, and this is your new-found child. He is the cause of +all this change of views. You would not buy back the Château for your +father's wife, it is for your boy. May I ask who his mother was? Why +have you kept this marriage so dark? It is really he who is to supplant +me, and before I leave the home in which I have been mistress for so +many years, I would like to make sure that this child is all that your +father would desire for a successor. I expect, as my right, that you +give me all details of this marriage." + +Adrienne had been growing more and more uncomfortable. She was ashamed +of her aunt, ashamed that she showed no gratitude or appreciation +for what her stepson was doing for her. And now she silently slipped +out of the room. She had no fear that Guy would lose his temper, or +retaliate in any degree to his stepmother's unjust charges. He had +infinite patience, infinite self-control; she knew that he would remain +absolutely calm and unmoved, but she felt that he would be—that he must +be—hurt in his soul, by her aunt's unkindness and suspicion. + +She went into the garden, and there, lifting her head to the clear +blue sky beyond, tried to get above earth's difficulties and +misunderstandings. + +It was not long before Guy joined her, and he drew a long breath before +he spoke. + +"There!" he said. "That's one effort over. I knew she would take it +hardly, but it will be for her happiness. She has tried and struggled +and failed to keep a home over her head, and now I must do it for her. +I suppose she will never believe that I planned this out before I had +any knowledge that I possessed an heir. But that does not matter. I +shall go straight forward now. You had better go to her and get her +mind off my iniquity and deception if you can. She'll soon forget it, +and be happy when she gets into her flat. I really don't know what she +will do without you when you go home!" + +"Poor Aunt Cecily!" said Adrienne. + +And then she turned to look at Guy with very tender eyes. + +"And poor Cousin Guy!" she said softly. "No one understands or feels +for his difficulties, and this addition of responsibility that has just +come to him!" + +Then she added quickly: + +"But he'll be a joy and a treasure! What a darling little boy he is! +When will you let Aunt Cecily see him?" + +"Not till I've polished off Bouverie," said Guy with a grave smile. + +Adrienne flitted away from him, and, as so often before, he watched her +figure till it disappeared into the house. But this time from a flash +of interest and admiration, the light in his eyes glowed with deep +passion, and he murmured between set lips: + +"Shall I ever win her, and see her as mistress here?" + + +At three o'clock, Monsieur Bouverie arrived up at the Château. Guy and +Monsieur Grougan, his lawyer, were awaiting him in the big library. + +Adrienne kept out of his way, but Pierre told her that he looked very +white, though he blustered more than usually. + +"I have very little time to give the Count," he said; "I am +particularly busy to-day." + +The interview went on and on. Four o'clock came, five o'clock, six +o'clock, and still the three were talking together. The Countess had +forgotten her anger against Guy. Now she was most excited. + +"Do you think Guy will get the better of him? If he has robbed me all +these years, will I get my money back? I think I ought to be there with +them, and yet I would rather not. I am afraid of angry men." + +"Cousin Guy will never get angry," said Adrienne. + +"No, so much the worse for Monsieur Bouverie," said her aunt shrewdly; +"the cold, implacable man is to be feared rather than the angry one. My +dear Adrienne, when Guy looks at me so straightly, I squirm. I'm afraid +of him." + +At six o'clock the library door opened. Monsieur Bouverie was the first +one to leave. + +Adrienne could not help glancing through the salon windows at him as +he strode down the avenue. His shoulders were hunched up. He looked, +Adrienne told her aunt, crushed and defeated. + +Guy and his lawyer still remained in the library. + + +When seven o'clock came Guy came out of the room, pushing his hair back +with one hand. + +"Phew!" he said as he came across Adrienne in the hall. "We have had +warm work in there, and tough too, but thank God it is over." + +"Is he routed?" Adrienne asked. + +"He either fulfils our terms, or he stands committed to trial in +Orleans." + +Adrienne softly clapped her hands. + +"The villain is unmasked and defeated," she said; "and what about the +Château?" + +"It's mine," said Guy laconically. + +They were standing by the open door as they talked. Guy said he wanted +air. + +Then with happy eyes Adrienne leant against the massive oak door. +Putting her lips against it she kissed it. + +"Darling old Château," she said, "you've been rescued! I'm so thankful. +I believe you'd have broken my heart if you'd gone out of the family." + +"Why, Adrienne, do you love it so?" + +Guy's tone was almost impetuous for him. + +Adrienne laughed up at him. + +"I'm so glad and happy that I could dance a jig here and now!" she said +recklessly. "Who wouldn't love the darling old place? It always seems +to wear a smile for me. Come outside and have a good look at it." + +She pulled him by the sleeve. Together they stood out upon the terrace +gazing up at the old building. Its roof was getting golden with moss +and lichen. Red Virginia creeper was climbing up its walls. The woods +above it, the gardens and bit of park round it were all tinted with +russet brown and gold. The smell of wood fires came out of its old +chimneys, for now the evenings were chilly, the Countess had fires +burning in her rooms. + +Guy looked up at it, and then at the girl by his side. He gave a short +sharp sigh, and said: + +"Yes, it might be a very happy home." + +Then with alacrity, he moved into the house. + +"I want to tell ma mére, and get her to have Grougan to dinner. We +shall still have business to do afterwards." + +Adrienne followed him into the salon, where the Countess sat in state. + +"Have you had success?" she asked. + +"It is not absolutely certain whether he will fight us or not. He will +let us know his answer to-morrow. But he knows he hasn't a leg to stand +upon. One or two flagrant bits of dishonesty would be quite enough to +condemn him. I've offered to let him off prosecution if he will pay up +for his frauds. One doesn't want to hound the fellow to death, and I do +not think you, ma mére, could stand cross-examination in a French Hall +of Justice." + +"No, no, indeed," the Countess said nervously. "I am not strong enough +for any fatigue or excitement. But if he pays up, I hope I shall get +some of my money back." + +"You must not forget," said Guy in his cool, level tone, "that from +time to time you have borrowed considerable sums of money from him. +There must be justice on both sides. It remains to be seen, when both +sides have discharged their debts, who will be the richer. I do not +think, ma mére, it will be us. If I discharge the mortgage, it will +take every bit of ready money I possess. His debts will alone enable +me to do it at all. I fear nothing will be over for you, or for the +estate, so do not build on false hopes." + +Blank dismay took the place of eager expectancy in the Countess's face. + +"Do you mean to say that I shall not get that diamond watch back?" she +asked after a moment's thought. + +Guy smiled. + +"That item was mentioned to him. I had clear proof that he cheated you +over that. We shall get it back, I hope. Now shall we postpone further +talk, and have some food, and will you let Monsieur Grougan dine with +us, for we still have a lot of business to transact before he leaves?" + +"Oh, certainly, let him stay, though I hardly feel inclined for food +after all the shocks of to-day." + +Yet with her usual inconsistency, the Countess brightened up and made +herself quite agreeable to the lawyer. + +Adrienne did not talk much. Somehow her thoughts were on the small +boy. What would become of him? Who would look after him? She could not +picture her cousin in the role of a father to a child who was hardly +out of the nursery. + +She and her aunt discussed the situation again when dinner was over, +and the two men had retired to the library; and Adrienne tried to +impress her aunt with the reasonableness and generosity of her +stepson's plans. + +"The Château does want a master, Aunt Cecily. You have told me over and +over again that it did. You will have all the joy of it without the +anxiety. Aren't you thankful beyond words that the Bouveries are not +going to walk in and take possession next Tuesday? I suppose I ought +not to be ill-natured, but I should like to know how Madame Bouverie is +feeling this evening after all her boastful bragging and impertinence!" + +"Yes, yes, I quite agree with you about her; but I cannot help feeling +hurt about this child being so suddenly sprung upon us. I only hope he +is genuine, and that the marriage was so, too." + +"Oh, Aunt Cecily, how can you doubt Cousin Guy's word? He's the soul of +honour." + +"I dare say he may be, but it's a strange coincidence that, directly +the boy appears, Guy should buy up the Château and turn me out." + +"That's very unfair, Aunt Cecily." + +Adrienne flared up quite angrily. + +"He has always meant to save the Château at the last moment. He told me +so—but he waited, as he said, till Monsieur Bouverie had a long enough +rope to hang himself! And I think he is quite right to think of his +son, and to wish to give him a home." + +"Oh, of course, and then he'll give him a stepmother, and where shall I +be?" + +Her aunt's supreme selfishness had generally the effect of silencing +Adrienne. She felt perfectly hopeless now and wisely let the subject +drop. + + +The next day was Sunday. Adrienne went off to her Protestant Service, +where she met Bertha Preston. They walked back together, and Adrienne +told her all that had happened. + +"I know you are discreet, and you know more about the child than I do. +If it had not been for your brother, he would never have been found." + +"That is true, but my brother knew more than I did. It was all very +sad. As you have guessed, my poor brother was loose in his morals and +not abstemious. Nine or ten years ago, he met Carlotta Luigi in Rome. +Her father was a very clever physician there. She was a great beauty +and a great flirt. My brother and a dozen other men were infatuated +with her. Then the Count came along. She fell headlong in love with +him, and people said proposed to him. Anyhow they married when they had +only known each other six weeks, and he carried her off to America with +him. + +"It was not long before she commenced a passionate correspondence +with my brother, asking him to rescue her from a cold Puritan of a +husband, who had renounced both his title and his Château and wanted +her to live in a country farmhouse in Virginia. My brother, I am sorry +to say, encouraged her, though he had not the remotest idea of either +marrying or living with her. I suppose your cousin got hold of some of +his letters, and drew his own conclusions. Then she made a bolt, but +brought her six weeks' old baby with her. I am afraid it was a bit of +spite against her husband. She would leave him nothing. + +"She arrived in Rome, and the very night she arrived, my brother calmly +departed, and sent word to her that he was ill, and could not see her. +Another lover of hers, a young Austrian, came forward, and she went off +with him. She gave her baby into the charge of a German friend of hers, +and it was she who reported the child's death to its father. I think +Carlotta felt reckless, and took no care of herself. She contracted +a chill very soon, and fell into a rapid decline, but up to the last +she refused to write to her husband. I visited her when she was left +neglected and forlorn, and I wrote to her husband, but he never +answered me; he thought that my brother was wholly responsible for her +flight from him." + +"Were you living with your brother at the time?" + +"No, oh, no. I came out to him with the idea of reforming him and +making a home for him, but he would have none of me then. It was +afterwards, when he knew he was ill of an incurable disease, that I +came to him, and finally persuaded him to come away from the cities and +live quietly in the country. It was strange that we should have pitched +our quarters near the Count. I never knew that this was his part of the +world or that he was over here. I heard it accidentally through the +village girl who came to work for us." + +"And your brother knew that the child was alive?" + +"Yes. It appears that, when she was dying, Carlotta wrote to him; she +taxed him with having made her leave her husband, and then deceived +her. And she said in her letter: + + "'Not only did you make me lose a good husband, but also my child, +for an old friend has taken him back to America and forgotten to give me +her address. I am dying alone now, without a soul belonging to me near +me.' + +"In justice to my brother she was not quite fair, for she began the +correspondence. He wished to forget all about her." + +"It's a sad story," said Adrienne musingly. + +"Yes, but thanks to little Agatha, I was able to tell my poor brother +when dying that there was a chance for him. And it was his own wish +that the Count should come and see him and hear about his child. I had +a bad quarter of an hour with the Count before he saw him. And yet, +under his apparent hardness, I believe there's great feeling." + +"Oh, Bertha, what a life you have had!" exclaimed Adrienne. "How could +you give up all your friends, because of your brother!" + +"He and I were chums as children," she said; "he wasted his life in +riotous living like the prodigal, and yet in intervals produced such +good work! His temptations were women, and—wine. After all, it was +but natural that I should try to reclaim him. If I did not entirely +succeed, his last year was one of respectability and peace." + +Then she said: + +"How do parent and child get on? It's rather hard for the Count to be +saddled so suddenly with a small child." + +"I hope they'll get on," said Adrienne doubtfully; "but they're very +shy of each other at present. He wants some woman to look after him, +Bertha." + +"Yes, he will have to have a nurse or governess," said Bertha. "How +does your aunt take it? She is too absorbed in her own troubles, I +expect, to think about him." + +"Yes, she seems entirely indifferent to him. Sometimes I wonder if she +can be the sister of my uncles. They are so utterly different—of course +poor Uncle Tom has gone now, he always used to say that she was spoiled +as a child. I can do nothing with her; no one could change her outlook, +it would be a human impossibility!" + +"What does Agatha say?" + +"Oh, she says that nothing is impossible with God, and that I must +pass on to her what I myself receive. But it's very, very difficult. +She has given up all religion, except that she keeps a Bible on her +dressing-table; but I've never seen her use it." + +They parted soon afterwards, and Adrienne again wondered how things +would work out under a new regime. The old servants were devoted to her +cousin; she could fancy with what joy they would hear the news, but how +they would welcome the child was doubtful. + +"Well," she told herself resolutely, "I shan't worry myself about it. +As soon as I have settled Aunt Cecily in Orleans, I must get back to +Uncle Derrick, and Cousin Guy must get on as best he can." + + + +CHAPTER XV + +ILLNESS AT THE CHÂTEAU + +IT was nearly three weeks later. The Countess would not hurry her +departure for Orleans. She continually postponed the date. The +Bouveries without a word suddenly disappeared from the village. +Their furniture was removed from their house to Paris, after they +had themselves departed. The village and neighbourhood regarded +their disappearance with great composure. They were not popular, and +relief was uppermost in most people's minds. It was all managed very +quietly. Guy appeared satisfied, for his lawyer had promptly settled +up everything, and Adrienne declared that their exodus was like a bad +taste gone from her mouth. + +She was beginning to be a little restive about her Aunt's +procrastination. She felt uneasy about her uncle. She hardly ever heard +from him, and he was generally a very good correspondent. Guy's little +son had attached himself to her in a very marked way. He had been +brought up to the Château by his father and introduced to the Countess. +She was pleased to approve of his manners, as he kissed her hand in the +same pretty way as he had kissed Adrienne's; but he was absolutely dumb +before her, and in pity, Adrienne took him away into the garden, where +he suddenly overwhelmed her with a torrent of words: + +"I love you. I don't want anybody else. The old lady is my grand-mère, +is she not? I do not want to be near her. She looks at me, and I don't +like her eyes. May I come and play in this garden often? I don't +like the farm. They jabber words I don't understand. And Dad says I +must learn French, so as to speak to them. But Ray the dog there, he +understands me when I speak English. Am I an English boy or a French +boy? I don't want to be two boys. Can you play cricket?" + +Adrienne produced out of her pocket a ball, bought in the village that +morning, and with the addition of a flat piece of wood found in the +tool-house, she and Alain were soon playing a game on the lawn. + +He was loath to part with her when the Countess sent for her, and began +to cry in a quiet hopeless fashion. His father found him in tears +behind a big shrub and asked him if he had hurt himself. + +"No, but just when I begin to be happy, it stops," he sobbed. + +"That's the way with most of us," said his father cheerfully; "but only +babies and fools cry." + +He took out his handkerchief and wiped the tears away from Alain's face. + +"Now we must have no more tears, Sonnie, not one. And you will find +that if you can't be happy in one way, you can try another. If you like +to come with me, I'll show you where I used to fish when I was a little +boy." + +"I wish I could live here always," said Alain, trotting after his +father obediently. "I should like to live with Cousin Adrienne." + +"I'm afraid you and I will have to get on without her. She lives in +England and will be going there soon." + +"I'll ask her to take me with her." + +"I think you'd better wait. By and by you'll be going to school in +England." + +"Shall I?" + +"Yes; I want you to be more English than French. But you'll be coming +to live here very soon. Do you like it here?" + +They were crossing a bit of the Park and making for a round pond under +some trees. + +Alain raised a smiling face. + +"Yes, I like it very much. But I don't like the farm." + +"Then you don't take after me." + +He cut a stick off a tree, produced a string out of his pocket and with +the help of a bent pin left Alain radiantly happy trying to fish for +minnows. + + +Then he went back to the house, where he discussed the alternative of a +nurse or governess. + +"He wants a little of both," said Adrienne; "he's very small and timid." + +"A good French bonne is what he wants," said the Countess. "I'll ask +Fanchette. She knows everyone round here." + +And in the end Pierre and Fanchette between them evolved out of a +country village close by a very nice motherly woman who was quite +content to go to the farm and look after Alain till the Château was +ready to receive him. Guy was already arranging for an army of paperers +and painters to take possession, and then suddenly everything came to +a standstill. One morning about seven o'clock, Annette came rushing +excitedly to Adrienne: + +"Mademoiselle. Vite! La Comtesse, ah, quel horreur!" + +For a moment Adrienne thought her aunt was dead. Then slipping into her +room, she found her lying back in bed breathing very stertorously, her +mouth slightly twisted. Nothing would rouse her. Adrienne knew it was a +seizure, and sent Gaston riding off post-haste for the doctor. He came +promptly, but could do very little. He told Adrienne he had been afraid +of this for some time. She had appeared unusually well and happy the +night before, so that there was no special cause for such an attack. + +All day Adrienne sat in the sick-room, and towards the evening the +Countess seemed to regain consciousness, and recognized Adrienne, +speaking to her in a thick husky voice. Guy came into the room, and +insisted upon Adrienne's going to bed. + +"I'll sit by her for an hour or two, and Fanchette will be here. This +may mean a long illness. You must have rest and sleep, otherwise we +shall have you ill too." + +So Adrienne did as he desired, but did not get much sleep. She had only +written to her uncle that day telling him she hoped to be home very +soon. And now how impossible it would be to leave her aunt! + + +The next day they got a nurse from Orleans, but though the strain of +nursing was taken off Adrienne, her aunt was never happy unless she was +in her room. + +In a few days she recovered in a certain measure, but lay quietly in +bed and never wished to move. She recovered her speech, but used wrong +words, and only Adrienne seemed to understand her. The girl had adapted +herself instantly to the sick-room's requirements. She was always +bright and smiling in her aunt's presence; always gentle and tender +with her. The workmen were sent away, for their noise fretted the +invalid; but as she grew stronger, life resumed its normal state, and +before very long everyone became accustomed to her condition. Orleans +was not to be thought of. Adrienne unpacked the many trunks she had +packed, and rather sadly rearranged her aunt's room, putting out many +of her pretty treasures which had been packed to go away with her. + +The Count continued to stay at the farm with his small boy, but he was +up at the Château every day. + +One day, he insisted upon Adrienne riding out with him. + +"You must have more exercise. It is good for you," he said. + +And when Adrienne came out into the fresh air which was slightly +touched with frost, and cantered along the lanes, the pink flush came +into her cheeks and the light into her eyes. + +"It is delicious," she said. + +"How long are we going on like this?" Guy asked her. "It is not right +that you should spend your days in a sick-room. The doctor says she may +be many months in this state." + +"How can I leave her?" Adrienne asked. + +"What does your uncle say?" + +"He wanted to come over, but Dr. Caillot advises not. He says she ought +to be kept as quiet as possible and to see no fresh people. Uncle +Derrick is willing that I should stay on for the present." + +"And what do you feel about it?" + +"Do you want to get rid of me?" Adrienne asked him laughingly. "I feel +that at present I cannot leave Aunt Cecily. I don't believe she'd get +well at all, if she worried; and she worries whenever I am long away +from her." + +"Do you think the child about the house would disturb her?" + +"How could he—the darling! The patter of his feet up and down the +stairs and his laugh and chatter would be music in our ears. I hope you +and he will come soon. It is your home, not ours, remember! I could +take Aunt Cecily into Orleans when she gets better." + +"She will never be turned out by me," said Guy with emphasis. + +"Well, can't we live together, one happy family?" said Adrienne +lightly. "I will stay a few weeks longer. Aunt Cecily will be up and +about by then, I hope." + +But Guy knew better. He said nothing, for he would not damp her hopes. + + +And in a few days' time he and his small boy took possession of the +Château. + +Alain and his nurse were put into two cheerful rooms at the end of +the long corridor away from the Countess, so that she should not be +disturbed. + +And Adrienne had one delightful morning in Orleans, choosing nursery +furniture and bright pictures for the nursery. Guy was with her. There +was one awkward moment, when Adrienne was addressed as "Madame" and +something was suggested for her "little son." + +Guy was so silent and imperturbable that, though the crimson blood +rushed into her cheeks, she felt sure that he had not heard the words. + +And a wild desire tugged at her heart, that she might be a mother of a +boy like that. + +It was the second evening after their arrival that Guy went to the +organ and very softly began to play. Adrienne was sitting with her +aunt. Hearing the music, she asked her aunt if she would like to +listen. Receiving assent, she put open the bedroom door. + +But they were not the only listeners. Alain on his way to bed broke +away from the care of his bonne. With flaming eyes, he darted down +to the hall and hid behind a heavy carved oaken seat by the organ. +There he sat on the floor with clasped hands round his knees listening +entranced whilst his bonne, missing him, searched the terrace outside. + +Guy did not play for long. He was improvising softly, and the strain +of his music was sad and wistfully sweet. When at last he dropped his +hands from the keys, and sat with bowed head and sorrowful memories, +two tiny arms suddenly reached up and clutched him round the neck. + +"I love you, Daddy! I love you! Make more music." + +The soft cheek that was pressed against his was tear-stained. + +Guy turned round and lifted the child on his knee. It was the first +expression of affection that he had received from him. + +"Why, Sonnie, have you a bit of your father in you, after all? If you +have, I'll have you taught music before you learn to read. There is +nothing like music for a weary, disappointed man's soul. It restores +his courage, and bucks him up to defy failure." + +Alain naturally did not understand this. + +"Play again, Daddy, play again!" he entreated. + +But Lucie, the bonne, had found him, and she carried him off most +unwillingly to bed. + + +All the next day Alain talked to Adrienne of his father's music. + +And in the afternoon, when her aunt was asleep, she took him into the +salon and opened the piano. + +"Now, Alain, you shall learn to play. Daddy says so, and I will teach +you." + +Alain shivered from head to foot with excitement when he touched the +notes of the piano with one tiny finger. He would not leave it when the +lesson was over, but sat on the high music-stool, striking one note +after another, first with one hand, then with the other. And hearing +his delicate certain touch, Adrienne told his father afterwards that +music oozed out of his fingers. + +Every evening now, half an hour before bedtime, Alain would curl +himself up by the organ stool, and listen to his father's music. + +Guy and his little son had found a bond of interest at last. + + +One afternoon Adrienne slipped away to see little Agatha. Bertha +Preston had left the neighbourhood, and she missed her friendship. + +But Agatha was always a tower of strength to her, and whenever she +felt unusually tired or depressed she would visit her, and come away +refreshed. + +"Agatha," she said as she sat down by the couch, and laid her hand +caressingly on Agatha's small white one, "I want to talk to Aunt Cecily +about good things, and I feel tongue-tied. I don't know how to begin. +Help me! It is so terribly pathetic to see her lying there day after +day with her brain clear, but her body almost lifeless, and her speech +difficult and uncertain. I wonder sometimes what she is thinking about. +She was always so restless before this illness, always moving about her +room, having her clothes altered, playing Bridge, looking at fashion +magazines. She can do none of these things now." + +"No," said Agatha, smiling; "but she can do much better, she can lie +in the Arms of the Bon Dieu and listen to His Comforting Voice. It's +a great step upwards, Mademoiselle, to lie still and listen. A hush +has been sent into her life, so that she can do it. It was too noisy +before." + +"That sounds beautiful, but to her it will be incomprehensible. I want +to help her. I have wanted to help her for a long time. I shall soon be +going away, and I shan't have done it." + +"Then begin to-morrow, dear Mademoiselle." + +"What can I say?" + +"Read to her some of our Lord's words; you won't want many of your own." + +Adrienne thought over this, with the result that that very same evening +she took up her aunt's Bible, which lay on her dressing-table, and +approached her, rather timidly, with it. + +"Aunt Cecily, shall I read you a few verses out of this before you go +to sleep—just to think over, and sleep upon?" + +The Countess stared at her and at the Bible, then she shut her eyes +wearily. + +Adrienne took this to mean assent, as her aunt was capable of a +negative shake of her head. + +So she turned to the third chapter of St. John, and read about the +nightly interview between the ruler and His King. She did not read many +verses, and that night made no comment on them. The next evening she +continued the chapter, and still said nothing. It was some evenings +before she summoned up her courage to say, after reading the end of the +fifth chapter of St. John: + +"You know, Aunt Cecily, it is only since I came here that I have +learnt to love my Bible, and I think you will find comfort in it. +Little Agatha has taught me so much. She seems to live so close to God +herself, that she draws everyone nearer to Him too. And she says you +are now lying in God's Arms for rest and happiness." + +The Countess shook her head, but Adrienne saw a tear trickle down her +cheek. + +"And," went on Adrienne slowly, "if we do come into God's Arms, +it is to be forgiven, and loved, and blessed. He wants us, and is +disappointed if we keep away. As He says in this chapter: + + "'Ye will not come to me that ye might have life.'" + +She said no more, but as time went on found it easier to speak about +the things she had learnt to love. + +And her aunt lay and listened, but never said a word. + + +One afternoon, Guy came in from the farm, where he still spent part of +his days, and asked Pierre for Adrienne. + +"Mademoiselle has gone out for a short walk." + +"Do you know where she went?" + +Pierre did not know. + +As he had a message to give her from Madame Nicholas whom he had +chanced to meet, Guy went in search of her. It was a strange life that +he was leading now, he reflected—strange for him and strange for her. + +Virtually they were running the house together, much as husband and +wife would do; and yet there was always a deep barrier between them, +and of which they were both acutely conscious. There was no happy +intimate talk, only grave conversation about local interests, the +condition of the invalid, and the doings and sayings of the child. +He certainly brought life and happiness into the old Château. His +pattering feet up and down the stairs, his chatter and laughter, his +friendliness with the old servants, and with all the animals which he +could approach delighted and amused both Adrienne and his father. + +Sometimes in the dusky twilight, as Adrienne sat opposite Guy at +dinner, in her white gown with the candles lighting up her fair sunny +face and hair, a throb of pain would rise in his throat and an ache +in his heart. Yet never again, he assured himself, would he lay bare +the love that had crept into his soul, and deepened and grown till +he could hardly contain himself. She had told him she would never +link her life to his because of his unfriendly reserve. She did not +like his ways, his manners, himself. And he was a strange mixture of +assurance and diffidence. He was convinced that he was not attractive +to any woman. He had lost a young wife because, three weeks after +marriage, she had told him she was tired of him, and wished she had +not married him. And Adrienne, with her sunny gracefulness, her sweet +temper and unselfishness, had told him very bluntly that there was +nothing attractive in his personality. He believed it now. His pride +forbade him from incurring again such a snub. Yet he marvelled that +circumstances had for a time decreed that they should share a home +together. He dreaded a change, yet he felt that inevitably it must come. + +Madame Nicholas wanted Adrienne to take Alain the next day to her +house. She had a little grandchild staying with her, and was having a +children's party. + +Guy now betook himself to the woods. He knew most of Adrienne's +favourite haunts by this time, and was not surprised when he caught +sight of her figure in the distance. But what was she doing? Was she +hurt or ill? He quickened his steps. She was lying face downwards +amongst the brown pine-needles between a group of pine trees, and as he +came near the heaving of her shoulders told him that it was either a +storm of passion or of weeping. + +Like a flash, he reviewed the morning. He had seen her at déjeuner, +and she was light-hearted and gay chattering with Alain as if she had +been a child herself. What could have happened since? The post! The +letters came in at one o'clock, and he had not seen her since. She must +have had bad news. Then he felt that he must make his presence known; +she would not like him to see her like this, so he whistled, and in a +second Adrienne had got to her feet. There was a seat a little farther +down, and she made her way to this. + +Here he found her. It was impossible for him to ignore her trouble, as +her swollen eyelids and tear-stained face could not be misunderstood. + +For a moment he said nothing, then he sat down beside her. + +"Little cousin, you are in trouble. Can I help you?" + +"Oh, why did you find me? I wanted to be alone." Adrienne's tone was +desperate, but Guy was too anxious over her to be easily repulsed. + +"I am sorry," he said in his quiet level tone; "but I had a message for +you and came out to find you. And I'm glad I came, for perhaps two may +be better than one in the present circumstances." + +"Oh, you can't help me." + +Adrienne's self-possession and dignity had left her. Tears were rushing +back to her eyes. + +Then pulling a letter out of her pocket, she handed it to him. + +"Read it. It's my own fault. I've stayed away from him; I've failed him +in his loneliness. He waited and waited and waited for me, and then +thought I did not want or care to come back to him. And oh, how hard +I've tried to leave Aunt Cecily, and how impossible it has been for me +to do so!" + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +LOVERS + +THIS was the letter that Adrienne had received that day. + + "MY DEAREST ADRIENNE,— + + "I am sitting down to break a bit of news to you. It may astonish you, +it has astonished me myself, but it has just seemed to happen in some +inexplicable fashion. I am going to marry Florence Winter. We have been +old friends for many a long day, as you know. I think if it had not +been for Tom, it might have happened ten years ago, but she did not +like him, and he did not like her, and I would never have left him to +set up a separate establishment. When I was up in town a short while +ago, I saw a good bit of her, but I never intended anything more than +to strengthen our friendship. + + "Then I went home, and the house was I confess it unbearably lonely. +I felt that I could not urge you to come back when your aunt needed you +so much, and, as time slipped on, I began to think that it might be a +happier life for you over in France than with one old man in a small +country village. Your aunt wrote saying she was going to Orleans, where +she could give you a good time. This her illness has stopped for the +present. I longed to come over and have a good talk with you, but you +wrote, saying it was best not. And then I was restless awaiting your +return, and I went up to town again, and the long and short of it is we +settled it up. + + "I hope you may be glad, for it will leave you free to live the life +you like the best. Only remember a home with me is always waiting +for you. I know you like Florence, and she's ready to mother you if +necessary—in any case to welcome you always. We are such old folk that +we mean to walk in quietly to a London church one day very soon and +come out man and wife. Write to me, dear, and let me know what you +think of— + + "Your devoted old Uncle + + "DERRICK. + + "Tell me how your aunt is, and when you go to Orleans. I am so thankful +that the responsibility of the Château will no longer be hers." + +Guy read this through, folded it up slowly and thoughtfully and then +handed it back to Adrienne. "You have been between two fires," he said. +"Each of them wanting you badly. Poor little woman!" + +His sympathetic tone brought the tears again with a rush. + +"I can't explain it to you, but everything, everyone seems to be swept +away from me. I was so happy, so content before I came over here! And +now—now my two best friends have married, or are just going to marry +each other, and neither of them will be the same to me again. Uncle +Derrick I adored! And now he, and my home will not be mine any longer. +Mrs. Winter is nice, but she's a London Society woman, and I hate town +and town ways. It's just pure selfishness on my part, for I believe +she'll make Uncle Derrick very happy. They've always been fond of each +other. Well, I have failed him, and made him feel lonely and forlorn, +and now it's my turn, and I can't complain!" + +There was a moment's pause. Adrienne felt ashamed of her outburst, and +was pulling herself together when Guy deliberately put his arm round +her and drew her towards himself. + +"You shall not be either lonely or forlorn," he said, strong passion +vibrating in his voice. "I want you as never man wanted a woman before. +And I'll undertake to keep you from tears if you give yourself to me. +I've been snubbed off, I know, but I'm not going to be snubbed off +now. I know this, that if love and devotion can make you happy, you'll +have it in me. Give me a chance to show you what I can do. I'm tired +of restraining and curbing my feelings. I want to tell you what you've +been to me since that first happy day when your little feet entered my +home. Don't fret over your uncle! If you knew how desolate a man's life +can be when he's shut into himself and grey memories, without any hope +to look forward to, you would be glad that he's solved his problem. +In any case, he wouldn't have wished to keep you single all your life +just to attend on him. Adrienne sweet, dearest, let me kiss those +tear-stained eyes. I must. I long to comfort you so!" + +Utterly unable to withstand him, Adrienne let her head sink on his +shoulder. It was broad enough and strong enough to bear all her life's +burdens, she knew. She was a little dazed and bewildered by his +impetuosity, and then remembered that this was more like the cousin +who had come down to her uncles and insisted that she should come to +the aid of her aunt. It was only lately that he had been so grave and +self-contained. + +And Guy had no single thought now but of kissing away his loved one's +tears, of seeing the light gradually creep into her soft grey eyes, and +the sunshiny smile return to her quivering lips. + +This Adrienne, lonely, forlorn and dejected, disappointed and +disillusioned in her childhood's home, was a different girl to the +dignified stately young lady who had accused him of being all that +she disliked, mysterious, reserved and complacent in his reticence. +That accusation had hurt him; he had no room in his heart for hurts +or injuries now, it was all taken up with his overflowing love and +passion for her. If Adrienne had wished to free herself from his strong +protective hold, she could not. But she lay passive in his arms, and +when his lips touched hers, she could only turn her face a little, and +hide it on his shoulder. + +"You—you haven't allowed me time or breath to speak," she at last +managed to say. + +"My darling, I'm waiting to hear you. But I'm not afraid. If I haven't +inspired you with feelings of love or confidence in myself, I know +that I've the power in me to do it. It has come to me now that you and +I are meant for each other, that God above has drawn us together, and +has been slowly but surely demolishing all the barriers that might have +loomed up between us." + +Then he added: + +"I asked you before to join me in making a home. I had that vision +perpetually before my eyes—but now it isn't the home I think about, it +is you yourself, and only yourself that I want to win." + +And then Adrienne looked up at him, and the light shone in her eyes and +smile. + +"And that is what I want to hear," she whispered; "and I only want in +the whole wide world, just you." + +It was winter time, but the pines whispered and rustled their tops +together above them, and the golden sun that was already nearing the +horizon sent its shafts of glory across the wood to greet the pair of +lovers. The golden rays hovered on the two heads so close together, the +cheerful chattering of the birds preparing their beds for the night +gradually ceased, and a sudden hush fell upon the woodlands round them. + +Adrienne roused herself with a little quivering laugh: + +"You certainly know how to dry tears, Guy. I wonder if dear Uncle +Derrick and Mrs. Winter are as happy as we are? I could not tell you +just now, but deep down in my heart I was crying for you. I did want +you so badly. Ever since I sent you to America with such hasty words +as I used, I have been consumed with shame and remorse. And I felt you +had given up caring about me, that you were expecting me to leave the +Château as soon as I could. When Uncle Derrick's letter came, and I +felt that he didn't want me, I wondered where on earth I could go, to +get away from you both!" + +Then she stood up. Even in this golden moment of happiness, her duty in +life came before her. + +"I must go back to Aunt Cecily. Nurse will be wanting her tea." + +"Ah!" said Guy, getting up and stretching himself. "Now I see freedom +before me! I dared not make a move before, because of frightening you +away. Now the first thing that I shall do will be to get another good +nurse, and relieve you of this constant attendance in a sick-room." + +"But," said Adrienne in her usual cheery tone, "I am not going to +forsake Aunt Cecily. I am too fond of her for that." + +"We'll discuss the subject later." + +They walked back to the Château together, Adrienne feeling as if she +were in a dream. + +Was it the level-headed, rather aloof Guy now speaking to her with such +passionate earnestness? + +"I fell in love with you at first sight," he was telling her; "I used +to shut my eyes often and see you in that English drawing-room of yours +at the piano singing that song about giving. The windows were open, and +I can smell the sweet jasmine now that was climbing up outside. I was +desperately afraid you would not come over, and when you did, I was +afraid you would not stay. I have so many pictures of you, Adrienne. +I took them all away to America with me, and looked at them again and +again. Do you remember when I first came upon you in the wood? The sun +was on your hair, and if I hadn't had plenty of self-control, I could +have taken you up and kissed you there and then." + +"You had consummate self-control," said Adrienne, looking up at him +with her sunny smile. "You seemed above and beyond me altogether; and +when you did ask me to make a home for you, I felt it was the home you +were thinking about, and not me." + +"I was crude in expression. I've never had a home all my life—home is +where love blossoms and ripens and stays. I never had anyone to care +for me. Even my mother was bored with me. She hated children and she +died when I was five. I wasn't French enough for my father. We were +good friends—nothing more. And when my stepmother came into my father's +life, I was in America, a grown man." + +"Did you never know Mathilde? I thought her rather nice, though she +lived, I think, entirely for amusement." + +"We met occasionally. The Château was not a happy home. It is only +since I have watched your love for it that I began to think I might +come to care for it too." + +"You do love it, don't you?" + +"I think it's a good setting for the light of my eyes and the centre of +my life. I have been remote and unfriendly, sweetest, but I dared not +be anything else. And it was a great shock when I heard about my little +son. It seemed to place you at a greater distance from me. I thought +you might object to that former bit of my life. When you took him to +your heart, I thanked God and took courage. And lately hope sprang up. +You seemed content and happy here. I can't express what your presence +in the Château has been. Pierre told me that you were the sunny angel +of the house. You flit about singing your little songs, and turning a +shining face to everyone. We all brighten up when you pass by. I don't +wonder ma mère is frantic at the idea of losing you." + +"Oh, Guy, don't flatter so. But seriously, I must go home to Uncle +Derrick. He is all I have of my own. You know what I mean, and—and I +want to tell him about ourselves." + +"Of course you shall. I know you will come back to me, so will spare +you willingly. I have been feeling for some time that you ought to +go, but I frankly confess I was afraid of losing you. I've always had +jealous fears about that young squire so close to you." + +"Oh, Godfrey! Why, Guy, I refused him before I came out here, and now +he's going to marry my best girl friend." + +"Then we'll find another good nurse as soon as we can, so that you can +leave your aunt without a qualm. And I think you'd better let me come +over and fetch you back. I'm sure you'd like to be married from your +uncle's house." + +"You take my breath away." + +"Think it over, darling. There's nothing to wait for." + +Adrienne was silent, then they came to the end of the wood from where +they had a view of the old house and gardens. + +Adrienne's eyes glowed as she looked upon it. + +"Darling old Château!" she said. "I little thought you were going to +be my home, when you crept inside me, and snuggled so close up in my +heart!" + +Guy threw back his head and laughed. Adrienne had always felt the charm +of his laugh. + +She turned to him and clasped his arm with both her hands. + +"I mean to make you laugh often and often till you chase your wrinkles +away," she said; "I love you when you do it. Oh, Guy, the cares of this +life are rolling off my shoulders. I can't even feel sorry for Aunt +Cecily. All her anxieties are over; she will never be plunging into +debt and borrowing money any more, and we shall have no anxiety over +her. She seems so peaceful and happy! When she gets stronger she will +come downstairs, a peaceful, contented old lady. You see if she does +not! Her whole nature seems to be altering." + +But Guy looked grave. + +"We'll make her last years happy if we can," he said; "I feel that you +are beginning married life with two responsibilities, my darling. It's +hardly fair on you, but your aunt and the small boy must look upon this +as their home." + +"I should rather think so. You will be my only responsibility, Guy; +they're just happy incidents, but you,—" + +She paused, shook her head and gave it up. + +And then they came indoors, and Guy, in the overflowing joy of his +heart, said to Pierre as he came forward in the hall: + +"Mademoiselle is never going to leave us, Pierre. Wish me joy. She will +be your mistress." + +Pierre, like an excitable Frenchman, began to wave his hands. + +"Ah, bon, bon!" he ejaculated. And then he began to invoke so many +blessings on Adrienne's head that she ran away from him crying: + +"I shall suffer from a swollen head very soon." + +She stopped at her aunt's door. + +Her first impulse had been to tell her of her happiness, and then she +began to wonder whether her aunt would consider it good news or not. + +She might not like the idea of Adrienne becoming mistress of the +Château. If she were in normal health and strength, Adrienne was sure +that the idea of being superseded would not please her. She finally +decided not to tell her. So she went in and relieved the nurse in her +usual way. + +Later on she had another talk with Guy, and before she went to bed that +night had written to her uncle telling him of her engagement and saying +that she hoped to be home in a few days' time. She also congratulated +him very warmly on his own contemplated marriage. + + "We will not be married together on the same day," she wrote; "for +I want you to give me away. But I want my wedding to be very quiet, +and Guy agrees with me. I am longing to see you and talk to you. If +you only knew how I have longed for you, and how lonely I have been +feeling, you wouldn't imagine that I had forgotten you. It was when +Guy found me crying my eyes out that he promptly said he meant to take +care of me for the future. He's an adept at comforting. He's stiff and +matter of fact outside, but at heart is the tenderest, most feeling +person in the world." + + +Very few people were told of Adrienne's engagement. But she made a +point of telling little Agatha herself. + +Agatha wisely smiled. + +"I knew it would come, Mademoiselle. The good God lets me know things, +because my life is so quiet. And the Count will settle down amongst us +at last. It will be good for us all—very good. See how God has arranged +for you, and for the poor Countess. She will die happily in her old +home, and you will take her place, and be held tightly in the hearts of +us all." + +"Oh, Agatha, do you think my aunt is going to die? I wonder and think +so much of her. I long that she should get into touch with the unseen +land before she goes there, but she speaks so seldom now, and with so +much difficulty. I wish I knew about her." + +"Dear Mademoiselle, the Lord has found her and is keeping her safely in +His Arms." + +"How do you know?" + +Agatha laughed in her gentle, joyous way. + +"I do know. I haven't a fear now. I talked about her much, and now I +have been assured. Keep on reading to her, Mademoiselle, and talk to +her as you do when you visit the little Alain in his bed." + +"I think you are a wizard, Agatha. I never told you how I talk to +Alain." + + +But when she was reading to her aunt that evening, she felt as if +Agatha's words were true. The Countess listened as if she liked to +listen, and smiled more than once as if she were comforted and pleased. + +Coming out of the bedroom, Adrienne went downstairs into the salon, +where a blazing wood fire was burning. She piled some cushions together +on the hearthrug and sank down into them. As a little child she had +always loved making pictures in the fire. Guy was busy writing letters +in the library, but she loved the solitude of the old Château and never +felt lonely in it. She did not hear Guy's step, so deep was she in her +dreams, until a soft touch on her hair made her look round. + +"All alone, sweetheart?" + +"Sit down by me and let us be children together. Only one more evening +and then the ocean will be between us. Have you written to Mathilde?" + +"I came to tell you that this evening's post has brought a letter from +her. She is on her way here. She is not surprised at her mother's +illness. She tells me she had a very slight seizure once before." + +"I am glad she's coming. I shall not be missed." + +"No? It will be only losing our light and hope and sunshine. But we +shall weather through." + +"You will be very happy, and so shall I, looking forward to our next +meeting." + +Guy would not sit down: he was standing with his back to the fire, +looking down upon her. + +"Sometimes," he said, "I can't believe in my luck. And I am wondering +if, when you get back to your old environment, it will take possession +of you again, and you will feel you cannot give it all up for a very +mundane middle-aged widower. You will be beginning your married life, +poor child, with ready-made cares, a restless little stepson and a +sick aunt, to say nothing of a husband who intends to monopolize you +entirely whenever he gets a chance." + +Adrienne looked up at him with radiant eyes. + +"What good times we shall have! And if—if I come back by Christmas, +what a lovely Christmas with a child to enjoy it, and all the villagers +to surprise and please with gifts. We'll give the old Château a good +time, too. It has been so very dull and sedate for so many years." + +"I believe the Château comes first sometimes with you." + +"Are you jealous of it?" + +Then Adrienne rose and put her slender arms round his neck, drawing his +head down to her. + +"Oh, Guy, Guy, how you've made me love you! Do you think that any old +environment of mine could wean me away from all I have here? And could +the Château itself compare with you! I shall be counting the days to +when you come over to claim me." + +"Yes," said Guy with emphatic assurance in his tone, "I am living for +that day too. I don't think anything in this whole wide world would +make me forgo my claim. But I shall want you to myself. Will you come +over to America with me for a few weeks? I should like to show you my +mother's old home in Virginia. One of her aunts, an old lady of eighty +years, is living there in old-fashioned state. We will get Mathilde to +stay on here till we return." + +"I will go anywhere with you," Adrienne whispered. + +And then Pierre came in to extinguish the candelabra, and she said good +night in a very matter of fact way and went off to bed. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +WED + +"WELL, Uncle Derrick, here I am, and how well you are looking. Quite +ten years younger!" + +Adrienne had arrived at her country station, and, as usual, her uncle +was there to meet her. He had violets in his buttonhole, and his whole +appearance was alert and smart. + +"I have only been home for a few days," he said, as he drew her hand +into his arm and walked her out of the station into the road to the car +which was waiting. He was driving himself; and when they were once off, +he turned to her in a kind of shamefaced way. + +"We couldn't wait. I didn't tell you, as it might have hurried you back +before you were ready to come, but we've had a quiet week in the New +Forest together, and now I've brought her home." + +Adrienne drew a long breath, then she said: + +"I'm so glad. You're such a dear that I love to think that you're going +to have a little happiness on your own at last." + +But for a moment blank dismay filled her heart. She had so counted on +having a cosy time alone with her uncle before her marriage. + +Resolutely she packed her disappointment away out of sight. + +"Were you surprised at my news?" she asked him. + +"Rather. You started off with a dislike to him. I am not sure that I +think him good enough for you. Not a patch on Godfrey." + +"Oh, oh! I must protest! Godfrey is a dear, but he's always the same, +always serene and good and straight, and never perturbed or excited. He +always would assent to everything I suggested, and we should have lived +a placid level life, knowing each other through and through and never +discovering anything more of each other. Now Guy is different. He is +masterful, and reserved and passionately tender at times, and at other +times impervious to coaxing or persuasion, and sternly obdurate. He has +more in him than ever he lets escape, and I'm always discovering fresh +traits in his character." + +"I think," said the Admiral slowly, "that I would rather know anyone +through and through, than be in ignorance of how they might act on +certain occasions." + +"Oh, but he would be always right. I know he would." + +"He is perfect in your eyes. That makes a good beginning. I want to +have a talk with him about the future. Has he enough income to keep you +comfortably in that old Château?" + +"Don't speak disrespectfully of my darling Château. I wish you could +have come over before I left. Yes—he was telling me the other day that +he has money and property from his own mother. He has done a great deal +for Aunt Cecily. I am almost ashamed to think how much." + +"She ought to have got rid of that old house long ago." + +"She was deep in debts and misery, but it seemed quite hopeless to help +her. And then it all came to a crisis as I wrote and told you, and now +everything is fair and square—except her health. I can't bear to say +it, but she is so gentle and quiet now that it makes everything easy. +Poor Aunt Cecily! She will never play Bridge again. That was her great +temptation. She always played for money. And never minded how high the +stakes were—so of course she lost a good deal. She was not a brilliant +player, so I was told. Now give me the village news." + +They talked on till they reached home. Adrienne wondered how she +would have felt had she been coming back to take up her old home life +again. As she entered the hall, she had a strange forlorn feeling that +her place had been filled, and she was wanted no longer. Yet when +she entered the drawing-room and met her uncle's wife, her grace and +beauty and affectionate interest in her overcame the awkwardness of the +meeting. Mrs. Chesterton was no longer young, she did not disguise her +grey hair; she had naturally a good complexion, beautiful dark eyes, +and a very charming smile. Tall and slight, she held herself with great +dignity and composure. As she kissed Adrienne, she said: + +"Your uncle has been longing to see you. His happiness will be complete +now. Dear Adrienne, I hope you will soon be as happy yourself as we +are. You have youth and a long life in front of you. We have old +age creeping on and life mostly behind us. But it is so good, so +satisfying, to be together at last." + +"You have waited a long time," said Adrienne as she returned the kiss +warmly. "I wonder now, why you waited so." + +"Just thirty years," said Mrs. Chesterton. She said no more, but as +Adrienne caught her radiant smile of welcome to her uncle, who had +followed her in, she felt content and glad that the long waiting for +them was over. + +Those first few days were rather difficult. It seemed so unnatural +to Adrienne to take a back seat in the home over which she had been +mistress ever since she had left school. But she was very thorough in +her abnegation, and more than once Mrs. Chesterton remonstrated with +her. + +"Let us do things together, dear, as much as possible. Don't be always +trying to retire and push me forward. And let me help you all I can +with your trousseau. I have always been a busy woman with many irons in +the fire; and just at first after town, this country life seems rather +quiet and empty." + +"You won't move Uncle Derrick up to town?" Adrienne begged her. "He +does so love the country, and all his councils and committees in our +small town." + +"You need not be afraid; I am too fond of him to take him away from all +his work. I mean to adapt myself to the country and not try to adapt +him to the town." + +Adrienne's relief of mind was great. + + +The big event now locally was Godfrey's marriage, and the whole +neighbourhood was most excited about it. Adrienne had many hours with +Phemie, who was sewing for herself in her bedroom at the farm and +making good resolutions for the future. + +Her mother no longer harried and bustled her about. She wisely left her +alone, and had already a land girl in her place. Adrienne was amused +when she heard she was a parson's daughter in a neighbouring parish; +and was certainly neither old nor plain in looks. She wondered if Dick +would be susceptible; but when she said something of this kind to +Phemie, she scoffed at it. + +"Don't you know that Dick has always secretly worshipped you? It sounds +ridiculous, of course; but he'll take a long time in adjusting his +affections in a fresh direction." + +"I never thought—I never knew—" faltered Adrienne. + +"No; with Godfrey's open and undisguised admiration, Dick knew he had +no chance. I believe faint hopes were stirred when I told him about +myself and Godfrey. But I felt that over in that Château, you and that +stepcousin would naturally come together. I hope he's really all you +wish, Adrienne dear. Godfrey can't understand it. He says you told him +that you wanted a lover who would thrill you through and through and +carry you off your feet, one whom you could follow to the death." + +"I talked a lot of nonsense to Godfrey," said Adrienne with rising +colour. + +She felt hurt that he should discuss her so openly with Phemie, but +would not let herself be affected by it. + +"I do think I could follow Guy anywhere," she said quietly. "Don't you +feel that with Godfrey?" + +"Of course I do. I adore him." + +The two girls sewed and talked together. + + +Then Adrienne went up to town with Mrs. Chesterton, and a busy +fortnight of shopping followed. Her uncle would not accompany them. +When she returned, it was to be present at the young squire's wedding. + +Lady Sutherland was the only one who could not and would not rejoice. +Phemie told Adrienne in confidence that it needed all her pluck and +courage to go through with it. But the anticipation of a honeymoon +spent in Florence, Rome, and Venice was sufficient compensation for +what she suffered beforehand. + +It was a very quiet wedding; Adrienne felt as if she were in a dream, +wondering all the time how she should feel when her turn came. + +The villagers did their best to show their approval. Bells were rung, +flowers strewn on the pathway, and small flags and bunting flying on +every house in the village. + +They knew Phemie, and liked her, but considered that she was not quite +up to Sir Godfrey. They all loved him, and wished him well. The general +opinion was that it was time he married and settled down! + + +When it was all over, and the happy pair had gone off to Rome, Lady +Sutherland asked Adrienne to come and stay a few days with her. And +out of pity Adrienne went. She felt sorry for the old lady, who talked +about going to a small dower house about four miles away, but evidently +thought she ought not to be obliged to do it. She confided in Adrienne: + +"Of course Godfrey wishes me to stay; he says I can help Phemie so +much, but she is not a girl who will like to be helped. It is the +bitterest time in a woman's life when she has to give up her home, the +reins of authority and her son to a stranger. Ah, my dear, I should not +feel it so much were you my daughter-in-law." + +"I believe you would," said Adrienne, trying to laugh. "In some ways +Phemie is more capable than I am. I am very fond of her, and you will +be too when you've learnt to know her. She has had a hard girlhood, +has she not? And I think that prosperity will soften her. She adores +Godfrey, and he deserves to be adored." + +Adrienne had a way with her of lightening people's burdens. When she +left Lady Sutherland, that good lady was resigned to her circumstances, +and determined to make the best of them. + +"You're a dear girl," the old lady said, as she kissed her on parting. +"I know you've had your own troubles, but you're fortunate in having +a fresh home waiting for you. I know how you felt the loss of your +Uncle Tom. It was a blow to all of us, and now this marriage of the +Admiral's!—I only hope it will turn out well for them both." + +Adrienne had no doubt upon that point. Day by day she saw how +increasingly happy her uncle became. It was quite pathetic to note how +his eyes followed his wife, as she moved about, with both dignity and +grace. + + +With all her home interests, Adrienne never failed to write and to hear +from Guy. They had fixed their wedding for the 15th of November. + +His last letter before he came over was as follows: + + "MY DEAREST,— + + "This is to be followed by me myself. How the days have dragged since +you left us! But I have been busy, and have tried vainly to distract my +thoughts from your little figure and personality. I was playing on the +organ yesterday evening—just letting my thoughts run on—you need not +be told the subject of them—and suddenly a small voice piped up from +behind me: + + "'I think, Daddy, you're making up about Cousin Adie when she sings.' +That was rather cute, wasn't it? He's making giant strides in his +music. I don't want him to be a prodigy, but I'm convinced he'll be a +musician. Yesterday he came an awful cropper off his pony and cut his +head badly. It happened close to little Agatha's cottage and I took him +straight in. He was howling horribly, but in an instant she calmed him. +She put her hands upon his head, and he looked up at her and smiled: + + "'Why the pain is all gone!' he said. Then Marie bathed and bound the +cut up, and he's never had any more pain in it since. I do believe she +has healing power in her fingers, the village firmly declares she has. + + "Your aunt is about the same, no better, no worse—Mathilde is feeling +very dull, but has generously promised to stick to her post till we +come back from our trip abroad. She and I garden sometimes together, +and she's helping me to smarten up bits of the house for my bride. This +is enough about our household here. My tongue is tied when I come to my +heart's centre. I can neither write nor speak of what I feel, but you +know always and utterly my life is yours, with all its imperfections +and crudity and roughness. + + "I pray God continually to keep my darling safe and happy, until I am +able to undertake the care of her. For that moment I impatiently wait. + + "Ever and entirely yours, + + "GUY." + +And the day after she received this, Guy arrived. His train was late, +and it was seven o'clock when he reached the station. One swift look +around, and then he saw Adrienne, standing slim and straight in her +long fur coat, the one lamp in the little station shining on her eager, +smiling face. Without a thought of onlookers, he drew her out of the +lamplight and into his arms. + +But his words were few: + +"I hardly expected you to meet me." + +"Uncle was coming, but he has a slight cold, and it was raining, so we +persuaded him to stay at home." + +In the car Adrienne was given all the news of the Château. Alain had +wanted to accompany his father, but though he had been invited, Guy +would not bring him. + +"He is best where he is, and he is company for Mathilde, who is getting +restive. She finds it deplorably dull." + +"It is winter and the gloomiest month in the year," said Adrienne by +way of apology for her. + +"It beats me how any sane, intelligent person can be affected by +weather." + +"That's just like a man! You go out all weathers. Many women do not. +And they are really physically affected by atmospheric changes. I'm +sure you've been very kind to Mathilde." + +Guy looked at her, and there was a little sparkle in his eye. + +"I compare her every hour of the day with my little girl, and wonder +how one Creator fashioned such different souls. We won't talk of +Mathilde any more." + +They reached the house, and Adrienne took him straight into the +drawing-room. + +There was a blazing fire; the Admiral and his wife greeted Guy very +kindly. To Guy, fresh from the spacious, mellowed old salon in the +Château, English rooms were too full of luxuries and of knickknacks +for comfort. But he had not much thought for anything but Adrienne. +His eyes hardly ever left her face. Yet before others they were both +absolutely undemonstrative and matter of fact. + +Adrienne discussed all the details of the eventful day, and informed +Guy that they were to be in the church by eleven o'clock. + +"Then we will come back, have some lunch, and catch the three o'clock +train to town. I think waiting about all the afternoon is so tiring for +everyone." + + +After dinner Guy retired into the library with the Admiral, and +Adrienne sat with her aunt till the gentlemen returned to the +drawing-room. + +"You do like him?" she inquired anxiously of Mrs. Chesterton. + +"He is a man," she responded. "Yes, I do, but I should be afraid myself +that he might prove somewhat hard and obstinate at times." + +"Perhaps," said Adrienne slowly; "but still I would rather live with a +strong man than with a weak one. And if one loves very much, one can +trust, and—and yield." + +"Not on every point," said her aunt decidedly; "keep your +individuality, my dear child, and remember that to only God above are +you responsible for the actions of your soul." + +Adrienne smiled. But she had no fears for the future; only the sense +of utter rest and happiness that she would have Guy to lean upon when +difficulties arrived. + + +One whole day they had together, and then the wedding day dawned. + +Adrienne wore a soft ivory satin gown, and looked perfectly charming. +But she had no bridesmaids; a few girl friends clustered round her. The +service was very quiet and only a few old friends were present, Lady +Sutherland amongst them. + +Adrienne was rather glad that Godfrey and Phemie were still away. Dick +and his mother, of course, were there. And a friend of Guy's, a Colonel +Skipwith, an American come down from town to be his best man. He was a +smart soldierly man, who had very amusing reminiscences of himself and +Guy as youngsters out in the Colonies. + +"I remember," he said, "when we first heard that a young Frenchy was +coming out to try his hand at farming. We were all learning together, +and there were a couple of us who meant to get some fun out of the new +arrival. But it didn't take us many days to discover that we'd met our +match in Froggy, as we called him. His fists and muscles belonged to a +Hercules. We went down under them, and his tongue was as scathing as +his fists." + +"Not a very attractive picture of me, eh, Adrienne?" laughed Guy. +"But you must remember I was one against four in that farm, and I had +to show them that French parentage does not always mean softness and +imbecility." + +And so in the little village church Adrienne and Guy pledged their +troth. It was a clear frosty day, and when they drove to the station +the sun was giving them his blessing. + +Adrienne's last words with her uncle had been tearful ones. + +"I shall look forward to seeing you and Aunt Grace out with us one +day," she said. "When the spring comes I shall expect you. And oh, dear +Uncle Derrick, let me feel always that this is my English home." + +"Why, naturally, my dearest child. God bless and keep you, and grant +that you may be the sunshine of your old Château as you have been over +here." + +They were gone. + + +Adrienne turned and met her husband's tender eyes with perfect +confidence. "And now," she said to him, as she slipped her hand into +his, "I am yours utterly, and entirely, and for evermore." + +Guy could make no answer at first; he only drew her closer to him, but +after a moment murmured: + +"May I be worthy of such a gift." + +And the car glided on, and the journey together through life commenced. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +HUSBAND AND WIFE + +SNOW was upon the old Château, obliterating all paths and flower beds, +showing only a wide expanse of pure white around it. The afternoon +was already drawing in, lights were twinkling in the village and in +the windows of the Château. Inside, there were blazing wood fires +everywhere. The passages and floors were like mirrors with much +polishing, and Alain was improving the occasion by sliding up and down +them. + +There was a sense of bustle and expectancy in the house. But upstairs, +Mathilde and two nurses were in the Countess's room. Only that morning +when she had seemed so much better, and had received the news of the +bride and bridegroom's return with such pleasure, a sudden seizure had +occurred, and she now lay unconscious, breathing with more and more +difficulty as time went on. The doctor had been in and out all day, and +had tried to give her oxygen, but it only seemed to distress her, and +he told her daughter that nothing could save her now. Mathilde heard +the car arrive, and swiftly went downstairs. + +"It's a sad home-coming," she said. "Mother is dying and knows no one. +Will you come up, and see if she recognizes you?" + +Adrienne slipped off her fur coat in the hall and ran upstairs +without a word. She was looking radiantly pretty, but now the shock +of Mathilde's news paled her cheek and brought sadness to her face. +Her husband followed her. In a moment or two, they stood by the large +four-post bed, looking down at the fragile little figure in it, so +close to the shores of eternity. Adrienne bent over her and took her +hand. + +"Aunt Cecily," she said in her clear voice, "do you know me?" + +There was a flicker of the closed eyelids, and then they lifted. The +Countess's eyes looked dark and blue, but quite intelligent. + +She looked at Adrienne, then at her stepson, stretched out her hands +to them with a smile, and then with rather a happy sigh lapsed into +unconsciousness again. She passed away peacefully about an hour later. + +Adrienne wept bitterly in her husband's arms. + +"I did want her to have a short time of happiness with us, if only we +could have had her a little longer!" + +Mathilde retired to bed. She had had an anxious day and was quite done +up by the strain of it. It was indeed a strange and sad home-coming. + +Adrienne wired to her uncle, and he arrived at the Château the +following evening. + +Four days later they laid her to rest in the family vault in the little +churchyard at the top of the hill. + +Admiral Chesterton stayed on at his niece's request for another week. +She took him out to some of her favourite haunts, and talked to him a +good deal about her aunt. + +"I feel comforted about her. Guy never left off reading to her at +night till my wedding. And she seemed to like it and understand it. +But since we have been away, I am afraid no one has continued it. Of +course I feel that God could speak to her Himself and comfort her, but +we do miss having a Protestant clergyman over here. Of course she would +never have the Curé near her, though I believe he would have come. And +he is such a really good little man that I'm sure he could have done +her no harm. Guy says he means to take me into Orleans where there is +a Protestant Service on Sundays. It seems so sad her being left quite +alone the last week of her life with only Mathilde, who never seemed +very fond of her mother." + +"Ah well," said the Admiral reassuringly, "you must think of God's +mercy and love surrounding her. We can trust her to Him." + +He pleased Adrienne by saying that the Château was more comfortable and +homelike than he had ever thought it could be. And when he left, he +felt assured and relieved about her future. + +Mathilde outstayed him. She was collecting a good many of her mother's +private possessions to take back to America with her. She was not at +all pleased to find that her mother's money, which came to her by will, +had virtually disappeared, been frittered away by the Countess, who was +continually drawing on her capital for her needs, and she spoke rather +angrily to Guy about it. + +"I thought you had made over the Château to my mother, yet I find you +established in it before her death. It needs explanation." + +"That I can give you," said Guy quietly. + +He marched her off to the library, bade her be seated, and gave her a +full and detailed account of her mother's debts and losses, and of the +mortgage of the Château, which he had redeemed. + +She came out of that room a wiser and a sadder woman. + +But Adrienne felt hotly incensed at her imputations of Guy's honesty +and fair dealing, and protested accordingly. + +"Guy gave Aunt Cecily money again and again; he was always paying her +debts and putting her straight. You haven't given him a word of thanks +or of gratitude for all he has done. Don't you realize that it is +owing to him that Aunt Cecily was permitted to die in her own home. +Her lawyer was turning her out of it and taking possession, when Guy +arrived in the nick of time to prevent him." + +"I only know that I, as her daughter, ought to have some share in this +property," said Mathilde. + +"You can only have that by sponging upon Guy. I should think you would +have too much pride to ask him for what is legally his inheritance. +It was his when he let Aunt Cecily live in it for her lifetime. It is +doubly his, now he has paid up the mortgage for it." + +Mathilde was silenced. + +"You are a little spitfire," she said. "Of course you're in love with +Guy now; but wait a year or two, then you'll find him a merciless +despot. I know him as you don't. My mother always feared him." + +"Oh, Mathilde, don't be so disagreeable! You are going away. Let us +part friends. You never loved this place, you told me you always hated +it. You would be miserable if it were your home. Don't grudge it to me. +I love every stick and stone of it." + +Adrienne refused to quarrel with her and they parted amicably, but she +was glad when Mathilde had gone. + +She stood outside on the terrace waving to her, and when the car had +disappeared she turned to her husband: + +"And now, Guy, we are alone together. Our life has begun, what are we +going to make of it?" + +With his hand on her shoulder, he turned her back into the hall. It +was a cold bleak afternoon; the wind was howling in the old chimneys, +but the wood crackled merrily on the hearth. He pulled forward a big +easy-chair close to the fire for her and took another for himself. + +"We're first of all going to shut out the cold and the grey +dreariness," he said in a tone of content; "and then, when we're +thoroughly warm and comfortable, we shall be in a better position to +discuss life with all its possibilities and failures." + +"Oh," said Adrienne with a happy laugh as she tilted her head back on +the cushion behind it, and looked at Guy with glowing, dreamy eyes, +"isn't it good to be alone at last? There has been so much to think of, +so much to do since we came home, and it has been such a sad time all +round, that we've had no time to think of ourselves. Talk to me now. +You and I have had no proper talk since we arrived here." + +"What is proper talk?" + +"Edifying, satisfying. How are we going to spend our days?" + +"I shall still run the farm. I can't keep my fingers off it, and +there's a lot to do in the woods this winter. Timber to be felled, +young trees planted. We must settle down to a year's domesticity, but +we have had a very pleasant time together in Virginia, eh?" + +"How I loved it!" said Adrienne in a rapt tone. "I used to think there +were no beautiful old houses to be compared with ours in England—but +travel widens one's mind. If I shut my eyes, I can see your aunts +quaint rambling old house with the maple trees in their autumn glory, +and the deep wide verandahs running round it, and the beautiful woods +surrounding it. I suppose it will come to you, Guy, when she dies? She +told me as much. Alain will have two beautiful inheritances." + +"He won't have both," said Guy. + +They were silent. Adrienne was wondering with wistful eyes if she would +be given sons of her own. + +"Where would you rather live?" Guy asked her suddenly. "Virginia or +here, or—England." + +"We'll end our days in England," said Adrienne playfully; "spend our +old age there; but at present my heart is here." + +"And so, I believe, is mine," said Guy. "My wife has made me love my +father's home." + +"Well," said Adrienne with her radiant smile, "then I must content +myself with running this old Château in a proper manner, and see that +my lord is comfortable and well fed. That is my present duty in life, +is it not? Only we must not forget the peasants. I do want to give them +a Happy Christmas, Guy. Tell me what we can do?" + +Husband and wife discussed that subject for some time together. Coals +and food were chosen as the most suitable gifts, with some warm +garments for the old people and children. Adrienne suggested a big +Christmas Tree in the Hall for everyone. + +"Alain will love it so." + +"Ah," said Guy, "I wondered if he would enter into our talk." + +"He's always in my thoughts. He must be doing lessons now. Who can +teach him?" + +"Possibly the Curé. He is a very able man." + +As if in answer to their thoughts, a door banged in the distance, and +Alain darted into the hall; his hands and face were floury; he carried +two doughy-looking buns. + +"They're just baked," he cried joyfully, holding them out to Adrienne; +"and I've made them myself for you and Daddy. They're for your tea. +Fanchette and me have been baking. It's jolly warm in the kitchen." + +The grown-ups accepted the gifts gratefully. + +"Come and sit down and talk to us," said Adrienne, putting her arm +round him. "Have you ever had a Christmas Tree, Alain?" + +The child nodded. + +"My Aunt Susy came from Germany where the Christmas Trees grow. Are we +going to have one?" + +"We're thinking of it." + +"And are we going to have Christmas presents? Real ones?" + +"Perhaps." + +"I wish you'd tell Father Christmas that I'd like a big organ of my +own, like Daddy's." + +"A big order," said his father, laughing. + +Alain looked at him soberly. + +"Are we poor, Daddy? Would it cost too much?" + +"I'm very, very rich," said his father; "but I haven't money to spare." + +"But rich people always have heaps of money," Alain argued. + +"No. I've known some rich people who've had next to none; they've had +other better things." + +"What kind?" + +Guy looked at Adrienne, then at his little son. + +"They've got love, my boy, and belongings and a home, down here; and a +loving God looking after them and keeping all His best gifts for them +when they go above to be with Him." + +"That's how Agatha talks," said the boy. + +His bonne appeared to take him off and make him tidy for tea. + +When he had disappeared, Adrienne said: + +"He is very fond of Agatha. She teaches him a lot. But I must tell you +what he said this morning. He had been rude to Mathilde. She always +rubbed him up the wrong way; he wouldn't say he was sorry, so he was +made to stand in the corner till he did. And then he lifted up his eyes +as he stood there and prayed: + + "'Oh, God, I do wish you'd try harder to make me a good boy, for Jesus +Christ's sake, Amen.' + +"What do you think of that for a prayer?" + +Guy smiled: + +"It shows he was aware of his utter badness, etc.? That making him good +was a superhuman task." + +And then Adrienne said softly: + +"I needn't be afraid I shall have no work to do, when we have a little +immortal soul to train." + +Guy said nothing. Watching the soft flushed face of his young wife, he +wondered if children of her own would be given to her to complete the +crown of her womanhood. + +He had no fears about the training of them. He knew that he would be +able to echo the words of the wise man of old: + +"Her children arise up and call her blessed." + +And so Adrienne settled down to her life as mistress of the Château. +She had gained the love and confidence of the village when she had been +"Our Mademoiselle." + +Now, as "Madame," she was always sure of a welcome from any and +all. When Christmas came there was much rejoicing. Alain had his +big Christmas Tree in the hall, and all the village were invited to +it. Those who could not, owing to age or infirmity, be present, had +presents taken to them. It was a cold winter, and blankets and grocery +tickets were freely distributed. Then, when the festive season was +over, Alain's education was once more discussed. + +One snowy afternoon Guy came in rather late from a visit to Orleans. +He found Adrienne writing letters in her boudoir. She was seated in +an easy-chair by a blazing fire, with her writing-pad in her lap. She +looked up with a happy smile as he appeared at the door. + +"Have you had a cold drive? You took the car, did you not?" + +"Yes, and it's bitter." + +He came in and stood back to the fire, warming his hands behind him. + +"I've engaged a tutor for Alain. Tumbled across him to-day. He's a +Russian—a young Count, I believe—without relations or home, has been +making his living since he left the country by teaching, and is out of +a job." + +Adrienne looked dubious. + +"I would almost rather it were a woman," she said. "And a foreigner, +Guy, and a stranger? I suppose you haven't taken him without good +recommendations?" + +"Excellent testimonials. He is little more than a boy, but you know how +clever Russians are. We don't want him in the house, but André Gaugy +has rooms, and his wife would be glad of a lodger. I've arranged that +he shall come up here and give up his mornings for lessons; and in the +afternoon I thought he could take the boy for rides or walks and keep +him out of mischief." + +"You've arranged everything very quickly. I wish you would let me have +a say sometimes in your arrangements." + +Adrienne spoke impulsively. She added: + +"Alain is a very small boy, and very easily impressed for good or bad. +I should not like him to be spoiled by unwise influence. Is this young +Russian sound in religion and principles?" + +Guy looked down upon her with rather rueful eyes: + +"My dear little wife, perhaps I have been rash. But I felt awfully +sorry for the young fellow, he looked half-starved, and it is my way +to act quickly. I really have been so accustomed to arrange and do +things on my own that I sometimes forget my better half at home. I've +told this young Russian to come out and see you and his future charge +to-morrow. I think you will like him. I did. He is Greek Church, I +believe. But we have the responsibility of Alain's religious training. +He will only teach him his lessons." + +Adrienne said no more, and the next afternoon Monsieur Dragominsk +arrived. + +He was a slight, nervous-looking man, with very dark and rather +restless-looking eyes. His face was pinched and sallow, his smile +lightened rather a gloomy face. But he spoke both English and French +like a native, and was, he said, very fond of music. + +"I have taught in small boys' schools, both French and music. Also +European history. And I will give your little boy a thorough grounding +in Latin." + +He spoke to Adrienne; something in her bearing told him that she was +more critical than her husband. + +"Alain is a very small boy. We want his lessons to be made pleasant to +him. Have you had experience with small children? They want a lot of +patience." + +"Madame, my patience is infinite. I know boys. I understand them—I like +them." + +Then Alain was summoned, and he regarded his future tutor with big +searching eyes. + +"You've put your tie through a ring," he remarked suddenly. "What is on +the ring? An—an animal?" + +"Come and see it. It is our crest." + +"Thanks, I won't come too close, till I know you better." Alain shrank +away from the encircling arm. + +But in a few minutes, he was talking eagerly to the stranger, and +before the interview was over, it was arranged that Monsieur Dragominsk +should start his teaching the following week. + +When he had gone Guy turned to his wife: "Well, little woman, why so +sober?" + +"I don't know. I don't quite like him, Guy, and yet I can't tell you +why." + +"You think I was too impulsive in offering him the job?" + +"I think you are so determined to help everyone in need that perhaps +their needs come first with you. But he may be all right. His +references are good, and if he's a genuine refugee, I'm very sorry for +him." + +"We can but try him. Your sharp ears and eyes will soon discover if +anything is wrong." + +Adrienne laughed. + +"Woman's instinct is sometimes ahead of man's decisions," she said, and +then they dropped the subject. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +ALAIN'S TUTOR + +IT was three months later. + +Life in the little French village to Adrienne was entirely delightful. +She was a good housewife, and though since her aunt's time the +household had been augmented by more maids and one extra outdoor man, +she still found plenty to employ her time. She rode with her husband +very often, helped him in his farming, superintended the Château +gardens, and looked well after the needs of the peasants in the +village. She never neglected Agatha, and would always come away from a +visit and talk with her, the stronger in her faith and love in her Lord +and Master. She had a certain amount of social obligations, for the +neighbourhood had a great liking and respect for her husband, and they +were friendly with all. But neither of them cared for Bridge-playing, +and there were only quiet dinner parties, or garden parties in the +summer by way of entertainment. + +Monsieur Dragominsk had quite made himself at home, and he and Alain +seemed always happy together. + +Alain was strangely reticent about his lessons. Sometimes Adrienne +tried to discover what tutor and pupil talked about when they were out, +walking or riding together. + +Alain would say: + +"Oh, we talk. He tells me about Russia, and lots of stories." + +And Adrienne had to leave it at that. + +Monsieur Dragominsk was very sociably inclined. He soon knew all the +peasants and farmers round and would spend his evenings at the village +inn discussing world-wide topics of interest. He had the power of +impressing and interesting all who listened to him. The only one who +did not seem to fall under his sway was Agatha. They only had one +interview, and that was a short one. Monsieur Dragominsk would never go +near her again. + +"A patient little invalid," he would say, "but full of hysterical +fancies and nerves. She looks upon herself as a saint, and tries to +live up to the pose. But there's an artificiality about her to my mind." + +He said this in the village inn. The speech was much resented, but +no one seemed able to be angry with the young man, he was so full of +smiles and warning persuasion. + +When Adrienne questioned Agatha about his visit, she was silent for +quite five minutes. The happy light died out of her face. Then she +looked at Adrienne with grave steady eyes. + +"I wish sometimes I did not see so far into people's souls, Madame." + +"But you always seem to find a lot of good in them, Agatha, don't you, +even in our village scapegraces?" + +Agatha did not smile. + +"Madame, time will show. He is a stranger in thought, as well as +nationality." + +"What does he think?" said Adrienne. "I wish I knew, he always agrees +instantly with what the Count and I say, but sometimes there is a look +in his eyes that belies his words." + +Agatha was silent. She would say no more. Adrienne had never heard her +say an unkind word of anyone. She always seemed to find good traits in +all. So that her silent attitude towards the young Russian brought back +Adrienne's first feelings of disquietude. + +But when she went back to the Château, and met him again, his pleasant +manners and smiling face reassured her. Children were good judges, she +told herself, of a person's sincerity and truth, and Alain seemed happy +and content when with him. + +Monsieur Dragominsk spent his off time in Orleans. He had a +motor-cycle, and would often spend his evenings there, returning very +late at night. Adrienne tried hard to be friendly towards him, but he +seemed to her never entirely at ease in her company. + +One evening she asked him to dine with them, and after dinner, as they +sat in the hall over the big fire, they began talking a little about +Russia. + +"It is extraordinary to me," Guy was saying, "how quickly and deeply +and widely this Bolshevism has taken root. Up till quite lately this +part of France has been particularly free of all Bolshevism and +revolutionary talk. But now it is creeping over the provinces as well +as in the towns. I suppose you, Monsieur Dragominsk, have nothing to +fear from Lenin's tools, but of course you are aware that there is a +great deal of Bolshevist propaganda in Orleans?" + +"I believe there is," said the tutor with a serious face; "but I take +good care to steer clear of them. They can do nothing to me. They have +killed all my relatives and taken our lands and possessions. They want +no more from me." + +"I suppose," said Guy slowly, "that the peasants get contaminated with +it when they go into the towns. We have been a very contented village +here for many years; but lately discontent seems rife. I have had to +discharge four farm-hands this week. And I came across some pernicious +leaflets in the forge the other day. I taxed your landlord with the +distribution of them. He is a great talker. Tailors generally are. He +was handing them round as I came up, so I asked if I might have some, +and he could not refuse me." + +"I have noticed," said Adrienne, "that some of our people are getting +sullen and unfriendly. I wonder why?" + +"They seem all under your control," said Monsieur Dragominsk; +"wonderfully so. These French country villages are as ours used to be, +very old-fashioned and feudal." + +"Excuse me," said Guy quickly, "we are republican in theory, only +sometimes it is difficult to carry it out in practice. And our peasants +cannot be compared with yours as regards intelligence. They are shrewd +and wide awake and never can be driven by force—only won by persuasion." + +"Oh, I know our peasants are little better than the beasts of the +earth," responded the tutor; "but they seem to be waking up now with a +vengeance. And the next generation will produce a new race of men in +Russia." + +When Monsieur Dragominsk had taken leave of them, Guy said to Adrienne: + +"I don't want to think too much of it, but there's a lot going on in +the village that I don't understand. Pierre says that the men gather +together with shut doors in the inn. I suppose what is going on in +Orleans is affecting them. Two factories there are on strike, and the +gendarmes had to come out last night, I hear. I have never had trouble +with the farm-hands before, and they have been utterly unmanageable +these past few weeks." + +Adrienne looked troubled. + + +The next day she went to see Agatha. She heard from her that the Curé +had gone away for his yearly holiday. + +"I wish he were here, Madame; he is generally about the village and +knows all that is going on. There is something evil in our village. +It wants to be discovered and rooted out. I am not one to meddle in +politics, but these Bolshevists are against our Lord, and I wonder the +Christian world does not rise up and exterminate them." + +"Why, Agatha, I have never heard you speak so scathingly before." + +Agatha's sweet face looked sad and stern. + +"I lie here and think, Madame. I know the good God permits evil for +His purposes, but it is His will that we should fight it. I have many +friends in the village and they come and talk to me. Lately some +of them have left off coming. And those that still come have black +thoughts in their hearts. I can read them, and I tell them what I see +through their eyes. They look ashamed, and some slink away, and some +argue. But the tares are springing up amongst the wheat and they are +choking it. I weep at night over what is going on." + +"We must try and stop it," said Adrienne firmly. + + +She went home and talked to her husband. + +Guy listened, but said little. + +Adrienne playfully shook him by the shoulders. + +"Say something, do something! I am beginning to feel again as I did +when Monsieur Bouverie was in the village. As if we are surrounded +by treachery! Several men to-day passed me with no recognition; they +turned their heads the other way and made no response to my greeting. +You are so silent, Guy. I am your wife. Let me into your thoughts." + +Guy put his arm round his wife, and drew her to him. + +"I never forget, thank God, that you are my wife. Trust me, dearest. I +shall ferret out this poison and get rid of it. But I want to track it +to its source. And I have to move warily." + +"Oh, you're very much of a man," laughed Adrienne, tilting her head +back on his shoulder; "you have an overwhelming confidence in your own +discretion, and a very poor opinion of your wife's. But I will not be +depressed. We have weathered through a bad time here, and we'll weather +through again. And I know that you are strong in your decisions, and +that though you move slowly, you move surely." + + +The next day Guy took his little son out for a ride. + +Monsieur Dragominsk had business in Orleans. Guy was often content +to ride along the lanes in silence, letting his boy do most of the +talking, but he did not do this now. He talked to him about the life +that was before him, of the English school he wished to send him to. +And then it was that Alain surprised him: + +"Don't you think, Daddy, that as I'm going to be a French Count it +would be better for me to go to French school? England is not so nice +as France, is it?" + +"Isn't it?" + +"No, it's got a king." + +"I suppose that is not right?" + +"No, it isn't, is it? America and France are bigger and better +countries than England, and they're Republics." + +"You're learning a lot, my boy. Now can you tell why kings and queens +are a mistake?" + +"Because nobody ought to be on top of us, and make us bow down to them." + +"Then you certainly must never be a Count. That is quite wrong!" + +"I suppose it is," Alain said reluctantly; "and in Russia you know, the +Counts used to beat their servants to death. It is only now the poor +people that are happy." + +"I sometimes think," said Guy slowly, "that it's a mistake us having +such a big house, when the peasants have such small ones." + +"Yes," chimed in Alain eagerly, "and in Russia the poor people live in +castles and the nobles in huts. It's been a turn-about; it's right that +everyone should have a turn." + +"Upon my word you're learning fast. Tell me more." + +Alain lifted his handsome little head proudly. He was pleased to think +his father admired his cleverness. "Daddy," he said suddenly, "how soon +will I be big enough to leave off saying my prayers with Mother?" + +"How big do you think you ought to be?" + +"Well, I'm growing fast, and I want to do like men do." + +"Don't men believe in God?" + +"Not now, do they? We can't believe in what we can't see. It's only +pretending all the time. I don't like to say so to Mother, but you +understand, don't you?" + +"I'm afraid I understand only too well, my boy. And is the Bible not to +be believed?" + +"It's only a history book about the Jews, isn't it? Nobody thinks +anything of it now." + +Guy's face was as calm and still, as if no surge of passion was rushing +through his veins. + +"Go on, Alain, talk away I like to hear you. Later on I'll talk too. +Tell me more about Russia. Is it a happy country now?" + +"It's getting happier every day, isn't it, Daddy? And one day it's +going to get all the other countries into it, and make them happy too." + +"How is it going to do that?" + +"I think it's by teaching all the people the right kind of things. I +don't quite know how—Oh, Daddy, do look at that kingfisher?" + +Alain had had enough of serious talk, he could not be inveigled into it +again. + +Guy brought him home, and sent him up to his bonne; then he went into +the library, and, sitting down in his chair before the fire, gave +himself up to deep thought. + +But he said nothing of his thoughts to Adrienne that night. Only he +absented himself after dinner, and spent his evening down at the inn, +where he was considerably enlightened on more points than one. + + +The next morning, when Monsieur Dragominsk arrived up to teach Alain, +Guy met him in the hall and asked him to come into the library. +Adrienne had been told that Alain was to have a holiday, and at his +request she and he went into the woods together for a morning ramble. + +When they came home, Guy met her in the hall. There was that in his set +face that made her see at once that something was amiss. + +"Well," he said as he drew her into the library, "I have had somewhat +of a scene here; but I've cleared him out and given him only four +hours' grace. He's like a raving maniac at present, but I think he'll +calm down. I often wonder how it is that I've grown up without an ounce +of French excitability in my brains. I think if I had been a Frenchman, +we should have come to blows. As it was, I yearned to give him a good +thrashing. But he knows he'll have it if he outstays his time." + +"Of course you're alluding to Monsieur Dragominsk. I knew you would +find him out. I have never trusted him. What have you discovered?" + +"That for once the Soviet has made a mistake in its tool. He is a +bungler and a fool." + +"You mean that he is a fraud? No Count at all?" + +"He's the son of a schoolmaster. I've been collecting facts about him +for a few weeks past. He's over in France in employed pay of the Soviet +for propaganda. I could have forgiven him if he had not torn down a +child's faith and trust." + +"Oh, Guy!—Alain! How horrible! How can we have been so blind and +stupid? But he must have sealed the child's lips. He has been so +unusually silent to me lately." + +And then Guy told her of his conversation with his boy. + +"I took him for a ride on purpose to pump him. I led him on, and he +fell into the trap and divulged the teaching he has been getting. I +blame myself. You were right, sweetheart; I was too hasty in my choice. +Thank God he is out of this house, and I'll see to it that he leaves +the village to-morrow." + +"Is he very angry at being discovered?" + +"He threatened and boasted a good deal. Said such places as this ought +not to exist, and that they were out for exterminating them. He made +no attempt to deny his real position, boasted of his success in the +village, and said that he and his sort were going to sweep through the +world making bonfires of the so-called upper classes—and such-like +trash! But imagine him thinking he would live on with us as a tutor +whilst he was turning the village upside-down and flooding it with his +red propaganda! I fancy there's a screw loose; he got almost maniacal +before he left. A very little more will land him in a lunatic asylum." + +Adrienne shuddered. + +"And we have trusted Alain to him. How awful!" + +"It seems to be my rôle in life to unmask villains," said Guy with a +dry smile. "I don't like the job, but I mean to do this thoroughly." + +"I hope he won't be revengeful before he goes. He might kidnap Alain. +Every child to them is a future asset for their achievement, I know." + +"Keep him with you as much as possible, but Dragominsk is out for more +than Alain." + +"And it is he who has been stirring up the peasants. I think we ought +to have discovered him before; but when I talked to him, he pretended +to be entirely against the Soviet. What a traitor he is! Is he sleeping +at the Gaugy's to-night?" + +"I can't tell you. I only know that I shall have the police out from +Orleans to-morrow if he doesn't go. I think he'll clear out." + + +Adrienne was uneasy all the next day. She learnt that Dragominsk had +gone back to Orleans; but as she walked through the village there were +sullen averted faces, and she was glad to get back to the Château. Guy +took the bull by the horns, and in the parlour of the inn held forth +to about seven or eight men on the subject of property and ownership. +Alain was very puzzled at his tutors' sudden disappearance. + +His father spoke frankly to him about it. + +"I have sent him away, my boy, because he was not a good man, and as I +want you to grow up a Christian gentleman, I want your tutor to set you +a good example. You must try to forget a lot of what he taught you. And +remember, we are all put into this world to serve and please God, and +keep His commandments." + +Alain was silent. + +When he was saying his prayers that evening, he looked up into +Adrienne's face earnestly: + +"Is God a real person, Mother? Does He really see me and want me to +love Him?" + +"Yes, Alain, He loves you. He sent you into the world, and He will take +you out of it. There are a lot of people who won't serve God or love +Him, and they pretend to themselves that there is no God. The Bible +calls those people fools, and they are." + +Alain seemed impressed. When she had said good night to him, Adrienne +came down into the hall where her husband was seated reading. + +She went over to him, and, sitting on a low stool, rested her head +against his knee. + +"Do you think God will forgive and overrule our mistake?" she asked. + +"Why, of course! It would be a bad look-out for us if He did not. Don't +worry over Alain. He is small and impressionable, and I'm sure your +teaching and training will soon remove the nonsense which Dragominsk +has been filling his head with." + +Then he stooped and kissed the little curls against her forehead. He +was very undemonstrative as a rule, but he had his moments of emotion. + +"My little wife," he murmured, "what should I do without you? We'll +weather through this. Our peasants are like a flock of sheep. When the +Curé comes back, he'll bring them to their senses. Don't go into the +village for the next few days. Let them quiet down." + +Then he added with his whimsical smile: + +"And I have learnt my lesson; never to act again without the counsel +and permission of my wife." + + + +CHAPTER XX + +AGATHA'S WARNING + +THAT night Adrienne could not sleep. She lay very still, not wishing +to disturb her husband; and she took herself to task for imagining she +heard strange noises round the old Château. It was a still, dark night. +No moon: owls were hooting at intervals—once she heard the dogs in the +stable barking, but she knew that the movements of the cattle sometimes +made them do that. + +She heard the clocks striking two, then suddenly with no uncertain +sound the church bell began to ring. She knew that when that bell rang +out, it was a signal of alarm or danger. If there was fire anywhere, or +any sudden calamity, the village was roused by the church bell. + +She put her hand out, and laid it on her husband's shoulder. He was +awake in a moment. + +Both of them sprang out of bed and hurriedly got into their clothes. +Adrienne made her way across to one of the unshuttered windows to +lean out and see if anyone was about. And then Guy heard her give an +exclamation, and joined her at her post. + +"What is it?" + +"Agatha!" gasped Adrienne. "I have seen her standing there before me on +the lawn quite distinctly,—standing, Guy! What does it mean? And she +looked up at me and pointed to the corner of the house over there." + +"Stay here," her husband said; "no, I won't have you come with me. You +are to stay indoors. I hear the servants moving." + +He was gone. Listening eagerly, Adrienne heard the heavy door open, +then leaning out she saw in the east wing of the house smoke coming out +of a window, and she smelt the unmistakable scent of fire. + +Nothing would keep her indoors then. She found her way to Alain's room, +had him out of bed and dressed him, trying to soothe and allay his +rising excitement. He thought it great fun. Then with the servants, who +were thoroughly roused, she took Alain out on the terrace. + +Gaston, running towards the house for buckets, told her that great +bundles of straw soaked with paraffin had been laid against the wooden +doors and window frames of the Château. They had only just discovered +them in time, for they had all been fired. One lower window had been +broken, and a lighted bundle of straw had been pushed through into a +room which was a lumber room. This bundle of straw Guy had with extreme +difficulty drawn out with a pitchfork, and the room was being soused +with water, for it was well alight. Adrienne immediately sent the maids +to help. She was no longer afraid of the house burning, for only one +room was alight, and that was being deluged with hose and buckets. She +stayed out on the terrace with her little stepson for a considerable +time; then, as light began to dawn in the sky, and the maids returned +one by one saying that all danger was over, she sent Alain back to bed +with his bonne, and went across the lawn to find her husband. + +He came to meet her with blackened face and hands. "Thank God, our +home is saved," he said; "I am leaving the men to watch it, and I will +wire for the police in the morning. Come along in. How about a cup of +coffee? We'll get Pierre to make us one." + +They approached the Château together. Suddenly from the thick shrubbery +at their side a man darted out and levelled his pistol straight at +Guy's heart. In a second Adrienne had flung herself in front of him. +She had recognized Dragominsk. He looked dishevelled and wild, but his +pistol went off, and Adrienne swayed and fell at her husband's feet. In +agony of mind, Guy lifted her up, and bore her into the house. + +Dragominsk made off, but all Guy's thoughts were on his unconscious +wife. One of the men rode off for the doctor. + +The wound was in her shoulder and it was bleeding profusely. With firm, +deft hands Guy bandaged it up and stopped the flow of blood. It seemed +years to him before the doctor arrived. + +After a brief examination, he allayed his worst fears. + +"The bullet has escaped the lung. I must get it out. But it isn't in a +vital part. We will have her well again. Cheer up!" + +In an hour's time the bullet had been extracted, and Adrienne's wound +dressed. She had recovered consciousness, but was at first too dazed +and confused to remember things. Then, as the morning wore on, she +began to ask questions. Guy would not leave her side. + +He felt as if nothing in the world mattered now but his wife. + +By and by urgent messages reached him, and he was forced to leave her. + +When he returned, there was a sad look in his eyes; but fearing to +agitate Adrienne, he kept his own counsel, and did not enlighten her as +to the cause of his distress. + +She had fever for a few days, and had to be kept very quiet. It was +a revelation to her to see what a good nurse her husband was. Quiet, +tender and deft in every movement, he waited upon her hand and foot, +and would hardly allow her maid or Alain's bonne to come near her. + +And then one bright May morning, when Adrienne was really convalescent, +he broke to her the sad news: + +"Our dear little Agatha has been taken from us." + +Adrienne burst into tears. + +"Oh, how dreadful for us! But lovely for her. Tell me all about it, +Guy. What has happened? What shall we do without her?" + +"She saved our lives at the cost of her own. Who do you think sounded +the alarm bell?" + +"Not Agatha!" + +"Yes, Agatha; the village consider it a miracle, her sister an amazing +and astounding feat. She was found, poor little thing, dead at the foot +of the belfry stairs. Her delicate little hands were marked, almost +lacerated by the rope." + +"How could Marie let her! How could she! Oh, I can't believe it! She +was paralysed from her waist downwards." + +"Marie had been called out to a case of sudden illness. Wouldn't you +like her to come up to you and tell you more than I can?" + +"Yes, let her come at once. I must hear all I can. How did Agatha know +we were in danger? Oh, Guy, do you remember? I saw her distinctly on +the lawn, showing us where the fire was. Was it really her?" + +"It could not have been. You must remember, they live close to the +Church on the top of the hill. We are nearly a mile away." + +"Then it was her spirit. I saw her distinctly. Poor, brave little +Agatha! Oh, Guy, are our lives worth saving at such a cost? She is a +loss to the whole village. What do they feel about it?" + +"They are absolutely dumbfounded! And in a way it has pulled us all +together again, and produced better feeling all round. We are mourning +together for her. There was quite a scene at her funeral; the men broke +down, and sobbed as broken-heartedly as the women. I'll get Marie to +come up and see you this afternoon." + + +Marie came. She looked quite old and stricken, and at first she and +Adrienne could only mingle their tears together. Then Marie began to +relate the events of that evening. + +"My darling had been very troubled for some time, Madame, about the +'evil' in the village. That was what she called it. I know in her heart +she associated it with Monsieur Dragominsk, but she will never let +herself speak evil of anyone. Ah, Madame! I cannot remember that she is +gone, that I must speak of her in the past! She said to me about five +o'clock that evening: + +"'Marie, I am overpressed with the weight of danger and evil. What does +it mean?' + +"'You worry too much,' I said to her. + +"'But,' she said, 'that is not my way; evils never lie heavily on +me, for what my Father allows, I bend my head to. He knows best. But +to-day I keep having the Count and the dear Countess before me. And our +Château is threatened in some way. I know it is. And I have a feeling +that I am called to save it.' + +"Then I tried to soothe her, and I told her the way to keep you from +evil was to pray for you. Whilst we were talking, I got an urgent +summons from Tournet Farm the other side of the village. The woman +was expecting her seventh child, and she was taken before her time. +They often send for me, as you know, Madame, and I could not but go. +Oh, if I only had stayed, I should have had my darling alive to-day! +But I went. She wanted me to. She said she would be quite safe and +comfortable till I returned. And she looked up at me and smiled in her +happy way: + +"'You know, my Marie,' she said; 'if I sleep, I shall not miss you, and +if I lie wakeful, I shall have happy talks with my Father. He is so +very, very close to me in the still hours of darkness. Go and do not +give me another thought.' + +"We kissed each other. I placed a glass of milk by her bedside, and the +lamp, and made her comfortable for the night. How little I thought I +had taken a last farewell of her!" + +Sobs choked her voice. + +"Did anyone run in and tell her that they were going to burn the +Château?" + +"Nobody went near her. No one told her, except the good Lord Himself. +Doubtless He sent an angel to tell her. Doubtless the angel helped her +to the belfry and gave her strength to sound the alarm. She could not +have done it otherwise. She was given the power of walking, which for +fifteen years has been withheld from her. God knew how we need you, +Madame, and it was His will to draw up my darling into Heaven after +she had saved you. I try to be resigned. But oh, if only I could have +sounded the alarm and not her." + +"And yet, Marie," said Adrienne slowly, "perhaps you would have refused +to do it. You would have thought it was her sick fancy; you would not +have liked to take such an extreme step without more proof of it being +really necessary. And now let me tell you. Just as the bell ceased +tolling, when we were all aroused, I looked out of the window and saw +Agatha distinctly upon the lawn. She was warning me and pointing to the +room where the fire had commenced to take hold." + +"Did you see her, Madame? Then it must have been as she was dying that +she came. How did she look? Oh, if only I had seen her!" + +"Just as she always looks—sweet and serene." + +"Oh, she was so fond of you! The Count and you were always in her +thoughts and prayers." + +"We both owe the happiness of our souls to her," said Adrienne, wiping +away her tears. "Marie, we won't be so selfish as to keep on mourning +for her. Think of her joy and gladness! She will never suffer any more, +never have nights of pain and weary sleepless days. We must rejoice for +her, if we can't for ourselves." + +Then Marie began to talk about the village. + +The four dismissed farm labourers and Monsieur Dragominsk were +considered responsible for the fire, but they had all disappeared, and +the police could not trace them. + +"My little Agatha has not died in vain," Marie said. "Our village was +getting red hot with revolt and revolution. And now they seem softened +and repentant. I asked André Gaugy, who had been imbibing all Monsieur +Dragominsk's poisonous words, how the poor would get on without our +family at the Château, who would look after us and tide us over our +bad times, and I asked him if he thought a clever thinking man would +have knocked under to a Russian ne'er-do-well, who was befriended +out of charity by our merciful Count, and after eating of his salt +and receiving kindness from his wife and himself, returned their +benevolence by setting fire to their house and shooting the Countess. + +"Andre hadn't a word to say except: 'Oh, he had a persuasive tongue, +that man; but I never thought he was murderous, never! And he has +killed our little Saint! May Heaven keep him off my path! For I dare +not trust myself with him!' + +"That's Andre now, and a few weeks ago he was thundering against all in +the class above him! I cannot tell you, Madame, how all of them have +spoken to me of Agatha. They almost looked upon her as a ladder to +Heaven, and say that now she is gone, they have none to care for their +souls. I tell them the good Curé is still with us, and they say,— + +"'Yes, he is our priest; but she was our friend, our little sister, she +knew us and loved us. We can have another priest when the Curé goes to +his rest, but we can never have another Agatha.'" + +"They're right there," said Adrienne. + +When Marie had gone. Adrienne and Guy talked over matters together. She +was very anxious to put up a marble cross over Agatha's grave, and Guy +told her that it could be done later on. + +"She has died for us," said Adrienne sorrowfully. + +"And you," said Guy, looking at her tenderly, "almost gave your life +for me. Did you think of what you were doing?" + +"No, I never thought. It was a natural instinct, and Guy, if I hadn't +done it, the bullet which went into my shoulder would have gone into +your heart. You are just that much taller than I. We were standing +together. Oh, don't let us talk about it! It seems like some black, +ugly dream. God has preserved us. I like to think that He wants us here +on the earth to do His work and fulfil His purposes." + +After the storm came the calm. The little village subsided into its +normal state; the peasants no longer shrank away when Adrienne passed +by. They showed the greatest solicitation over her wounded shoulder, +and were continually making inquiries after her health. Adrienne found +a young French Protestant girl to teach Alain; she played with him out +of lesson hours, and gradually the individuality of Monsieur Dragominsk +faded from the boy's memory. He, childlike, lived in the present, and +was perfectly happy and content with his new teacher. + + +When the summer came, Admiral Chesterton invited them over for a +month's stay with him. Guy could not go, for business affairs again +called him to America; but Adrienne took Alain and thoroughly enjoyed +life again in her old home. Phemie had just presented Godfrey with a +son and heir. She had adapted herself in a wonderful way to her new +life, and had grown quite pretty. She welcomed Adrienne warmly, and the +young wives had much to say to each other. + +"You are really happy making your home out of England?" Phemie +questioned. + +"The Château is my home. I love it. I have always done so ever since I +first saw it, and as long as I am with Guy, I don't care what country +contains me." + +"How funny it is," said Phemie thoughtfully, "how one kind of man suits +me, and quite another suits you. I think your husband too hard and +strong and dour to make a woman happy." + +"He may have a hard shell, but his heart is as tender as a child's," +said Adrienne emphatically. + +Then she looked at the baby in Phemie's arms. "I never thought you +would like being a mother," she said. + +"No, when I was single and unattached I talked a lot of nonsense," said +Phemie, flushing; "but motherhood is very wonderful, Adrienne. You will +find it so." + +"I'm sure I shall, and if all is well, three months more will bring me +to it. I am hoping it may be a girl, and Guy hopes so too. I know he +will spoil a little daughter if he gets one." + +"You must not let him. Godfrey and I talk a lot about our boy. We mean +to bring him up from the beginning in the old-fashioned way. To learn +obedience and self-control first of all. Those virtues are lacking in +the modern race." + +So they talked, compared notes together, and parted; each feeling that +their friendship was strengthened and renewed by their time together. + + +It was in October when Adrienne's little daughter appeared. She was a +tiny creature with big blue eyes and soft little curls over her head. +She hardly ever cried, and gave everyone a smile who came near her. + +Her father watched her with adoring eyes. When Adrienne was quite +convalescent, she got her husband to take her one afternoon to the +little churchyard. + +A beautiful white marble cross was erected over Agatha's grave, and she +wanted to see the inscription underneath. + +It was very simple and plain: + + "SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF + OUR BELOVED AGATHA + WHO DIED AS SHE LIVED + IN SUCCOURING OTHERS. + + "Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter thou + into the joy of thy Lord." + +And then below, Marie had these verses written: + + "Her life was lived in Heaven below, + And God was with her here; + She's only gone a step beyond + To clearer, sweeter air. + + "Through pain and grief she sang her hymns + Of joyous grateful praise; + In glory now beyond all ills + She sings again her lays. + + "The echo of her songs and life + With all of us remain; + And so we follow in her steps, + We know we'll meet again." + +"Guy," said Adrienne, looking up at her husband with tears in her eyes, +"there is only one name for our little daughter, and I pray God that He +may give her some of the grace He gave our little Saint." + +"Yes," said Guy, in a tone of quiet content, "she shall be called +'Agatha.'" + + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75428 *** |