"I think it's a good setting for the light of my eyes and the centre of my life. I have been remote and unfriendly, sweetest, but I dared not be anything else. And it was a great shock when I heard about my little son. It seemed to place you at a greater distance from me. I thought you might object to that former bit of my life. When you took him to your heart, I thanked God and took courage. And lately hope sprang up. You seemed content and happy here. I can't express what your presence in the Château has been. Pierre told me that you were the sunny angel of the house. You flit about singing your little songs, and turning a shining face to everyone. We all brighten up when you pass by. I don't wonder ma mère is frantic at the idea of losing you." "Oh, Guy, don't flatter so. But seriously, I must go home to Uncle Derrick. He is all I have of my own. You know what I mean, and—and I want to tell him about ourselves." "Of course you shall. I know you will come back to me, so will spare you willingly. I have been feeling for some time that you ought to go, but I frankly confess I was afraid of losing you. I've always had jealous fears about that young squire so close to you." "Oh, Godfrey! Why, Guy, I refused him before I came out here, and now he's going to marry my best girl friend." "Then we'll find another good nurse as soon as we can, so that you can leave your aunt without a qualm. And I think you'd better let me come over and fetch you back. I'm sure you'd like to be married from your uncle's house." "You take my breath away." "Think it over, darling. There's nothing to wait for." Adrienne was silent, then they came to the end of the wood from where they had a view of the old house and gardens. Adrienne's eyes glowed as she looked upon it. "Darling old Château!" she said. "I little thought you were going to be my home, when you crept inside me, and snuggled so close up in my heart!" Guy threw back his head and laughed. Adrienne had always felt the charm of his laugh. She turned to him and clasped his arm with both her hands. "I mean to make you laugh often and often till you chase your wrinkles away," she said; "I love you when you do it. Oh, Guy, the cares of this life are rolling off my shoulders. I can't even feel sorry for Aunt Cecily. All her anxieties are over; she will never be plunging into debt and borrowing money any more, and we shall have no anxiety over her. She seems so peaceful and happy! When she gets stronger she will come downstairs, a peaceful, contented old lady. You see if she does not! Her whole nature seems to be altering." But Guy looked grave. "We'll make her last years happy if we can," he said; "I feel that you are beginning married life with two responsibilities, my darling. It's hardly fair on you, but your aunt and the small boy must look upon this as their home." "I should rather think so. You will be my only responsibility, Guy; they're just happy incidents, but you,—"