"_Ma tante_ gave me leave to visit the foundries of La Frontenay," she said, with a quaint assumption of dignity, "so I came this morning, thinking, mayhap, that you would remember your promise to conduct me round the workshops ... and that perchance I might meet you here." "I came here every morning for the past fortnight," he rejoined simply. "I hoped that you would come." "I had to wait," she said unblushingly, "till _ma tante_ gave me leave." "I am sorry," he said curtly. "Sorry? Why?" "I loved the idea of meeting you here ... in secret ... unknown to any one...." For some reason which she could not have accounted for, this--his first really bold speech--angered her, and she retorted coldly: "I would not have come at all, if Laurent had not approved." "Ah! It was Laurent then who gave you leave?" "Yes," she replied, "it was Laurent." Somehow she felt strangely out of tune this morning, and wished heartily that she had not come. For one thing, she hated to see him in that odious blouse which he wore; it seemed to have the effect of making him, not only clumsy and loutish, but dictatorial and arrogant. The other afternoon, when he came to Courson, she had thought him passable--in a rough and picturesque way. The faded and tarnished uniform had lent, she grudgingly admitted, a certain look of grandeur to his fine physique. To-day he looked positively ugly--one of "the great unwashed," she thought, and despised him for a demagogue--he who bore one of the finest names in France. "Are you prepared to come to the foundry this morning?" he asked abruptly. For the moment she had a mind to say "No!" then remembered her folk at home and the boast she had made about taming this bear. It would have been passing foolish to give up the enterprise at the first check. "Yes, I'll come," she said, as graciously as she felt able. He, too, felt the constraint which seemed to stand like a solid wall between her and him, and in his rough, untutored way he was seized with a sudden, wild desire to pick her up again, as he had done that other morning a fortnight ago, and to carry her through the woods which were dripping wet with the rain. He wanted to carry her through the tangled undergrowth, so that her little feet brushed against the low branches of the trees, and caused them to send down a shower of cool drops over his head, which felt hot and aching all of a sudden, as if some unseen and heavy hand had dealt him a blow between the eyes. The exquisite fairy of two sennights ago looked like a haughty and unapproachable woman to-day, sedate and grave, with that dark shawl folded primly round her shoulders, and the folds of her hood hiding her golden hair and casting a shadow over her limpid blue eyes.