Indeed, I am afraid that by this time Tessie’s interests had been withdrawn from the firm altogether. She was very stupid so I inwardly decided; she would not come forward and make the best of herself in the Baron’s presence, and in consequence it was impossible he could discover what a good wife he would gain in her, and so I had given them both up as a bad job. If people _wouldn’t_ find out what was best for themselves, it was useless wasting my time upon them. So Tessie’s merits had ceased to be dragged in by the head and shoulders, as a topic of conversation between Armand and me, and we only talked of such things as were most agreeable to ourselves. ‘Well, monsieur,’ I exclaimed, as I came up with him, ‘and what may you be doing here?’ ‘I followed you, mademoiselle.’ ‘That is a pretty confession! How could you tell I had come this way?’ ‘I saw Mademoiselle Ange and you leave the curé’s house together.’ ‘And so you have been dogging our footsteps,’ I said, as I threw myself down on the grass he had just quitted. The Baron accepted my action as an invitation to resume his seat. ‘It is about time you accounted for yourself,’ I continued jestingly. ‘I don’t think we have seen you for two whole days.’ ‘Is it only two days?’ he said, in a melancholy voice. ‘It seems like two weeks to me.’ ‘Why, monsieur, what is the matter with you? Not moping again, I hope! I thought you promised me to be brave and keep your heart up, in hope of better times.’ He sighed deeply. ‘That was a week ago,’ he answered. ‘And what of that? You are talking mysteries to me.’ ‘Mademoiselle,’ said the Baron, suddenly changing the topic, ‘do you remember telling me the day we talked together on the road to Piron, that there is no “stooping” in honest labour?’ ‘I do.’ ‘I have thought much and earnestly of your words since then. I look back on the years that have passed since my great misfortune, and I see they have all been spent in idleness and waste of mind and body! I cannot recall them: they are gone and done for: they must be left to give their own account hereafter. But for the few that remain before I hope to take my station in society again I am determined, if possible, not to blush. I have made up my mind, mademoiselle. I am going to work.’ ‘I am sincerely glad to hear you say so!’ I exclaimed. ‘If you are glad, it is all I ask. I will try to be glad also.’ ‘But what are you going to do?’ ‘I wrote to a friend at Court some weeks ago, telling him all, and asking his assistance to procure me fit employment until I should hold my own again. His answer arrived three days back. In it he offers me the post of _Ministre d’affaires_ in—in—Algiers.’ ‘_Algiers!_’