"'Why the pain is all gone!' he said. Then Marie bathed and bound the cut up, and he's never had any more pain in it since. I do believe she has healing power in her fingers, the village firmly declares she has. "Your aunt is about the same, no better, no worse—Mathilde is feeling very dull, but has generously promised to stick to her post till we come back from our trip abroad. She and I garden sometimes together, and she's helping me to smarten up bits of the house for my bride. This is enough about our household here. My tongue is tied when I come to my heart's centre. I can neither write nor speak of what I feel, but you know always and utterly my life is yours, with all its imperfections and crudity and roughness. "I pray God continually to keep my darling safe and happy, until I am able to undertake the care of her. For that moment I impatiently wait. "Ever and entirely yours, "GUY." And the day after she received this, Guy arrived. His train was late, and it was seven o'clock when he reached the station. One swift look around, and then he saw Adrienne, standing slim and straight in her long fur coat, the one lamp in the little station shining on her eager, smiling face. Without a thought of onlookers, he drew her out of the lamplight and into his arms. But his words were few: "I hardly expected you to meet me." "Uncle was coming, but he has a slight cold, and it was raining, so we persuaded him to stay at home." In the car Adrienne was given all the news of the Château. Alain had wanted to accompany his father, but though he had been invited, Guy would not bring him. "He is best where he is, and he is company for Mathilde, who is getting restive. She finds it deplorably dull." "It is winter and the gloomiest month in the year," said Adrienne by way of apology for her. "It beats me how any sane, intelligent person can be affected by weather." "That's just like a man! You go out all weathers. Many women do not. And they are really physically affected by atmospheric changes. I'm sure you've been very kind to Mathilde." Guy looked at her, and there was a little sparkle in his eye. "I compare her every hour of the day with my little girl, and wonder how one Creator fashioned such different souls. We won't talk of Mathilde any more." They reached the house, and Adrienne took him straight into the drawing-room. There was a blazing fire; the Admiral and his wife greeted Guy very kindly. To Guy, fresh from the spacious, mellowed old salon in the Château, English rooms were too full of luxuries and of knickknacks for comfort. But he had not much thought for anything but Adrienne. His eyes hardly ever left her face. Yet before others they were both absolutely undemonstrative and matter of fact. Adrienne discussed all the details of the eventful day, and informed Guy that they were to be in the church by eleven o'clock.