And her aunt lay and listened, but never said a word. One afternoon, Guy came in from the farm, where he still spent part of his days, and asked Pierre for Adrienne. "Mademoiselle has gone out for a short walk." "Do you know where she went?" Pierre did not know. As he had a message to give her from Madame Nicholas whom he had chanced to meet, Guy went in search of her. It was a strange life that he was leading now, he reflected—strange for him and strange for her. Virtually they were running the house together, much as husband and wife would do; and yet there was always a deep barrier between them, and of which they were both acutely conscious. There was no happy intimate talk, only grave conversation about local interests, the condition of the invalid, and the doings and sayings of the child. He certainly brought life and happiness into the old Château. His pattering feet up and down the stairs, his chatter and laughter, his friendliness with the old servants, and with all the animals which he could approach delighted and amused both Adrienne and his father. Sometimes in the dusky twilight, as Adrienne sat opposite Guy at dinner, in her white gown with the candles lighting up her fair sunny face and hair, a throb of pain would rise in his throat and an ache in his heart. Yet never again, he assured himself, would he lay bare the love that had crept into his soul, and deepened and grown till he could hardly contain himself. She had told him she would never link her life to his because of his unfriendly reserve. She did not like his ways, his manners, himself. And he was a strange mixture of assurance and diffidence. He was convinced that he was not attractive to any woman. He had lost a young wife because, three weeks after marriage, she had told him she was tired of him, and wished she had not married him. And Adrienne, with her sunny gracefulness, her sweet temper and unselfishness, had told him very bluntly that there was nothing attractive in his personality. He believed it now. His pride forbade him from incurring again such a snub. Yet he marvelled that circumstances had for a time decreed that they should share a home together. He dreaded a change, yet he felt that inevitably it must come. Madame Nicholas wanted Adrienne to take Alain the next day to her house. She had a little grandchild staying with her, and was having a children's party. Guy now betook himself to the woods. He knew most of Adrienne's favourite haunts by this time, and was not surprised when he caught sight of her figure in the distance. But what was she doing? Was she hurt or ill? He quickened his steps. She was lying face downwards amongst the brown pine-needles between a group of pine trees, and as he came near the heaving of her shoulders told him that it was either a storm of passion or of weeping.