"Confound it! again?" said the young tutor, annoyed, and looking reproachfully at his pupil. "You know that M. de Jonzac objects to your speaking in that way. He particularly wishes you to be more careful, and more correct, in your choice of words."

"Oh, well! if he were to talk to my friends, he'd hear a few things, and he'd soon get used to it, too. It's always like that; just a matter of getting used to things."

"I cannot imagine that very well, though," said Bijou; "Uncle Alexis letting himself get used to the style of conversation of your friends."

She drew up whilst she was speaking, and pointed to something in the wood.

"Oh! look at that beautiful mountain ash, isn't it red? How pretty those bunches are!"

"Do you want some of those berries?" proposed Pierrot.

"Yes, I should like some, they are so beautiful."

The youth entered the coppice, and they heard the branches snapping as he broke them in order to make himself a pa.s.sage, and presently the top of the red tree shook and swayed, now bending down, and now springing up again, as Pierrot shook it roughly.

Bijou, with her head bent, and a far-away look in her eyes, seemed to be in a dream, quite oblivious of what was going on around her. She started on hearing Pierrot's voice as he called out to her to know whether he was to gather a large bunch.

"There is nothing worrying you, is there, mademoiselle?" asked Monsieur Giraud timidly, as he stroked Patatras gently.

"Oh, no! Why?"

"Because you do not seem quite like yourself; you look rather sad."

"Sad?" she said, forcing a smile. "I look sad?"

"Yes. Just now, when you pa.s.sed by without seeing us, you looked sad, very sad, and now again--"

"Just now--that's quite possible. Yes, I did not feel quite gay; but, now, why, I have no reason to be otherwise--quite the contrary. I feel so happy here, in this velvety-looking field, and with this beautiful sunshine that I love so much!" And then she added, as though in a dream, and not taking any notice of the young man: "Yes, I am so happy, I should like to stay like this for ever and ever."

She pressed her rosy lips to the spray of clematis with which she had been playing the last minute or two, and then put it back into her bodice, not seeing the hand which Giraud was holding out beseechingly towards the poor flowers, which were already withering.

Pierrot came out of the thicket at this moment, carrying an immense bunch of mountain ash berries. Bijou was smiling again by this time.

"You are ever so kind, Pierrot dear," she said, after thanking him, "and all the more so as you will have the bother of carrying that for another mile yet."

"Oh! if it would give you any pleasure, you know, I'd do things that were a lot more bother than that!"

"You are good, Pierrot."

"It isn't because I'm good;" he said, and then coming nearer, so that he touched the horse, he added very softly: "It's because I'm so fond of you."

Bijou did not answer, and in another minute Pierrot began again:

"How well you sang last night. Didn't she, M'sieu' Giraud?"

"Wonderfully well," said the tutor. "And what a lovely voice! so fresh, and so pure. I can understand something now which I did not understand yesterday."

"What may that be?"

"The infinite power of the voice! Yes, before hearing you I did not know what I know at present. You will sing again, will you not, mademoiselle? Fancy, I have been here three weeks, and I had never had the happiness of--"

"I will give you _that happiness_ as much as ever you like."

She was joking again now, for the little dreamy creature of a minute before was Bijou once more.

As they approached the chateau, she put her hand up to shade her eyes.

"Why, what's going on?" she said; "the hall-door steps look black with people."

"Hang it!" exclaimed Pierrot crossly. "They are all out there watching for you! There's Paul, and there's Henry, and the abbe, and Uncle Alexis, and Bertrade. Look, though! Who's that? You are right--there are some other folks too. Ah! it's old Dubuisson, and Jeanne, and then there's a fellow I don't know; a fellow all in black. Oh, well! he must be a shivery sort to come to the country dressed in black, in such heat as this."

"Perhaps it's M. Spiegel, Jeanne's _fiance_. They were to bring him."

"Yes, that must be it! I say, he doesn't look a very lively sort, your Jeanne's _fiance_. She isn't though either--"

Bijou was looking round to see what had become of Giraud, who had suddenly become so silent. He was following the young girl, worshipping her as he walked along as though she were some idol.

Just at this moment, whilst Pierrot was very much taken up with looking in the direction of the chateau, the little bunch of clematis dropped from Bijou's dress, and fell at the tutor's feet. He picked it up quickly, and slipped it into his pocket-book, after kissing it, with a kind of pa.s.sionate devotion, whilst behind him, the old groom, silent and correct as usual, laughed to himself.

IX.

M. DUBUISSON, whom the students called "Old Dubuisson," was the princ.i.p.al of the college.

He had brought his daughter to Bracieux, where she was to spend a week with Bijou, and Jeanne's _fiance_, a young professor, newly appointed at the Pont-sur-Loire College, had accompanied them.

"How warm you must be, my dear Bijou," called out the marchioness, appearing at one of the windows.

"Oh, no, grandmamma," answered Denyse, taking M. de Rueille's hand in order to descend from her horse. "M. Giraud and Pierrot must be warm--I am all right."

She kissed Jeanne heartily, spoke to M. Dubuisson, and then looked in a hesitating way towards the young professor, who was contemplating her in surprise.

"Bijou, this is Monsieur Spiegel," said Mademoiselle Dubuisson.

With a graceful, pretty movement, which was very taking, Bijou held out her little hand to the young man.

"We are friends at once," she said; and then, as she moved away with Jeanne, she whispered: "He is charming, you know, quite charming!"

M. Spiegel perhaps overheard this kindly criticism, or else it was just by accident that he happened to turn very red at that moment.

"Go and change your dress quickly, Bijou!" commanded the marchioness.

"But, grandmamma, I am not warm, really and truly."

"Come here! Let me see!"