o state, or at least no state commensurate
with his position or with the tastes of his niece Aline de Kercadiou.
Aline, having spent some two years in the court atmosphere of Versailles
under the aegis of her uncle Etienne, had ideas very different from
those of her uncle Quintin of what was befitting seigneurial dignity.
But though this only child of a third Kercadiou had exercised, ever
since she was left an orphan at the early age of four, a tyrannical rule
over the Lord of Gavrillac, who had been father and mother to her, she
had never yet succeeded in beating down his stubbornness on that
score. She did not yet despair--persistence being a dominant note in
her character--although she had been assiduously and fruitlessly at work
since her return from the great world of Versailles some three months
ago.

She was walking on the terrace when Andre-Louis and M. de Vilmorin
arrived. Her slight body was wrapped against the chill air in a white
pelisse; her head was encased in a close-fitting bonnet, edged with
white fur. It was caught tight in a knot of pale-blue ribbon on the
right of her chin; on the left a long ringlet of corn-coloured hair had
been permitted to escape. The keen air had whipped so much of her cheeks
as was presented to it, and seemed to have added sparkle to eyes that
were of darkest blue.

Andre-Louis and M. de Vilmorin had been known to her from childhood. The
three had been playmates once, and Andre-Louis--in view of his spiritual
relationship with her uncle--she called her cousin. The cousinly
relations had persisted between these two long after Philippe de
Vilmorin had outgrown the earlier intimacy, and had become to her
Monsieur de Vilmorin.

She waved her hand to them in greeting as they advanced, and stood--an
entrancing picture, and fully conscious of it--to await them at the end
of the terrace nearest the short avenue by which they approached.

"If you come to see monsieur my uncle, you come inopportunely,
messieurs," she told them, a certain feverishness in her air. "He is
closely--oh, so very closely--engaged."

"We will wait, mademoiselle," said M. de Vilmorin, bowing gallantly over
the hand she extended to him. "Indeed, who would haste to the uncle that
may tarry a moment with the niece?"

"M. l'abbe," she teased him, "when you are in orders I shall take you
for my confessor. You have so ready and sympathetic an understanding."

"But no curiosity," said Andre-Louis. "You haven't t