way about Lancilly. I am going home now, and I
wanted to see you. They will ask me how you are looking."

Helene blushed and almost laughed. She looked eagerly into the child's
face.

"Who will ask you?"

"Papa, of course."

"Ah, yes, he is very kind. What will you say to him?"

Riette looked hard at her and shrugged her slight shoulders.

"I must go," she said. "Kiss me again, ma belle."

"Stop!" Helene held her tight, with her hands on her shoulders. "Do you
often see--your cousin--Angelot?"

Riette's face rippled with laughter. "Every day--nearly every hour."

"Why do you laugh?"

"How can I tell? It is my fault, my own wickedness," said Riette,
penitently. "Why indeed should I laugh, when you look sad and ill? Can I
say any little word to Angelot, ma cousine?"

"Tell him I must see him--I must speak to him. Tell him to fix the place
and the hour."

"And you a prisoner?"

"Yes--but how did you get in? That way I can get out--Riette--Riette!"

"Precisely. Adieu! they are calling me."

The child was gone. Helene, standing in the deep recess in the window,
now came forward and looked round wonderingly. The old tapestried walls
surrounded her; ancient scenes of hunting and dancing which at first
had troubled her sleep. There was no visible exit from the room, except
the locked door. But Riette was gone, and the message with her. Was she
a real child, or only a comforting dream?

CHAPTER XVI

HOW ANGELOT PLAYED THE PART OF AN OWL IN AN IVY-BUSH

That night, while Helene sat alone and in disgrace, her lover was
dancing.

After dinner Riette persuaded her father to walk across with her to La
Mariniere, where they found Monsieur Urbain, his wife and son, spending
the evening in their usual sober fashion; he, deep in vintage matters,
still studying his friend De Serres, and arguing various points with
Angelot whose day had been passed with Joubard in the vineyards; she,
working at her frame, where a very rococo shepherd and shepherdess under
a tree had almost reached perfection.

Madame de la Mariniere had views of her own about little girls, and
considered Riette by no means a model. She had tried to impress her
ideas on Monsieur Joseph, but though he smiled and listened admiringly,
he spoiled Riette all the more. So her Aunt Anne reluctantly gave her
up. But still, in her rather severe way, she was kind to the child, and
Riette, though a little shy and on her good behaviour, was not afraid