"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Denyse gaily, when she went back into the drawing-room, where only M. de Clagny and the family now remained, "it is half-past twelve, you know; they all seemed like fixtures, and I thought they were never going to leave us!"

"The La Balue family are not very handsome," remarked the abbe.

"Oh, they are not so bad," protested the young girl; "it is only a question of getting used to them, that's all!"

"Young Balue is horrible!" said Madame de Bracieux. "And then, too, there is something snaky about him. When you shake hands with him, it is like touching an eel."

"And the daughter, too!" put in Pierrot. "Ugh, she has such little pig's eyes! and Louis, too, has little eyes!"

"They are very nice, though, all the same," said Bijou, in a conciliatory tone.

"And they come of very good family," added Madame de Bracieux; "they are descended from La Balue, from the Cardinal, the real--"

"Oh, well," put in Bijou gently, "it would, perhaps, be better for Gisele not to have descended from the iron cage, but to have larger eyes; however, as it cannot be helped--"

M. de Clagny laughed, as he turned round to look about for his hat, which he had put down somewhere in the room.

"One needs to have a certain amount of a.s.surance," he said, "in making one's exit from here, for one feels how one will be pulled to pieces."

"You need not be afraid," said Bijou, "we shall not pull you to pieces, although you could stand it very well. I promise you, though, that you shall not be pulled to pieces. Will you take my word for it?"

"Yes, I will take your word," answered the count, as he took the little hands, which were held out to him, and pressed them affectionately in his.

VIII.

"ARE you going for a ride, Bijou?" called out Pierrot, leaning out of the window.

Denyse, who was just crossing the courtyard, pointed to her riding-habit.

"Well, you can be sure that in this heat I should not entertain myself by walking about in a cloth dress if I were not going to ride."

"Where are you going?"

"Why?"

"So that we can come and meet you--we two--M. Giraud and I,--at eleven o'clock!"

Just behind Pierrot the tutor's head was to be seen.

"I am going to The Borderettes to take a message to Lavenue," answered Bijou; and then, seeing Giraud, she said pleasantly: "Good morning. I shall see you again, then, soon?"

Patatras was waiting in the shade. The old coachman, who always accompanied Bijou, helped her into her saddle, and then, mounting in his turn, prepared to follow her. When Pierrot saw this, he called out again:

"How is it that none of the cousins are riding with you?"

"I did not tell them that I was going out."

"Ah!" he exclaimed regretfully, "if I were only free, wouldn't I come with you!"

She turned round in her saddle, with an easy movement which showed that she was not laced in at all, and answered Pierrot, with a merry laugh:

"I should not have told you though, either!"

As soon as Bijou had pa.s.sed through the gateway, she put Patatras to a gallop, for the flies were teasing him dreadfully.

She went along through the hot air, meeting the sun, the burning rays of which fell full on her pretty face without making it red. She did not slacken her pace until she arrived at the narrow lane leading to The Borderettes. It was almost perpendicular, and covered with loose stones, and at the bottom of the little valley, which was very green, in spite of the dry season, the farm, with its white walls and red roof, looked like a perfectly new toy-house. When she was at the bottom of the hill, Bijou pulled out of her pocket a little looking-gla.s.s, and then arranged her veil and the loose curly locks of hair, which had blown over her ears and the back of her neck. She then gathered from the hedge a spray of mulberry blossom, which she fastened in the bodice of her habit, arranged the little handkerchief, trimmed with Valenciennes, daintily in her side-pocket, and then, after another short gallop, pulled up at the entrance to the farm.

A rough voice called out: "Are you there, master?" and then a young farm labourer came out of the house, saying: "Master ain't heard me call; I'll go and find him."

A minute or two later, a tall young man, of some thirty-five years of age, appeared. He was a true type of the Norman peasant, somewhat meagre-looking, with fair hair, and a slight stoop. He looked very warm and was out of breath. His face was so red that it seemed to be turning purple.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, trying to get his breath again, "it's you, Mad'moiselle Denyse, it's you, is it?"

"Yes, Monsieur Lavenue," she answered, smiling, "it is."

"Won't you get down?" he asked, holding out his hand to help her.

"No, thanks! I have only come to bring you a message from grandmamma.

It is about the Confirmation dinner next Monday; but you know all about that, as you are the mayor?"

"Yes, I know about it!"

"Well, grandmamma would like to have some very nice peaches for Monday, and some very nice pears; in fact, all kinds of nice things, such as grow in your orchard."

"They shall bring you them, Mad'moiselle Denyse! You can be quite easy about that. I'll see they are well chosen." And then, as the young girl turned her horse round, he said, as he watched her, almost dazed with admiration: "Are you going to start back already, mad'moiselle?

Won't you stop and have some refreshment--a bowl of milk now? I know you like a drop o' good milk!" And then, in a persuasive tone, he added, as he took hold of Patatras' bridle, "That 'ud give the horse a rest, too; he's very warm after the run."

Farmer Lavenue's way of talking always amused Bijou. It had been more than ten years now since the st.u.r.dy Norman had emigrated to Touraine, and yet he had not lost his strong Norman accent in the slightest degree.

It was Madame de Bracieux, who, thoroughly dissatisfied with the Touraine farmers, had taken up this man. Charlemagne Lavenue had never fraternised with the regular inhabitants of the place. He was looked up to and admired by the simple-minded and unskilful villagers, who saw him making money in the very place where others had been ruined.

He had, by "sending for people from his part of the world," gradually transformed The Borderettes into a small Normandy, and he had so much influence now in the place that he, an interloper, had been elected mayor of Bracieux, to the exclusion of the former notables of the place.

As Denyse did not reply, he lifted her down from her horse, saying as he did so: "You will, mad'moiselle, won't you?" And then, after giving the reins to the old groom, he led the way to the door of the farm, and stood aside for Bijou to enter.

"How nice it is here, Monsieur Lavenue," she exclaimed, in a pleasant way. "Have I ever seen this room before? No, I don't think I have!"

"Yes, you've seen it, mad'moiselle, only, you know, it's been fresh white-washed, and, you see, that makes it different-like."

"When you are married, now," she said, smiling, "it will be very nice, indeed."

Farmer Lavenue, who was looking at Bijou with hungry eyes, held his head up erect, and then, shaking it slowly, he answered, with some hesitation:

"I can't decide to give the farm a mistress, because I don't come across one as suits me." And after a moment's silence, he added: "That is to say, amongst them as I could have."