"Then you," he said with a little bow towards her, "will order your niece to ride in the early mornings for her good, and I will help her to carry out your wishes." Adrienne's delicious little laugh rang out; she could not help it. "I hope I shall be tractable under this discipline," she said. "I shan't forget that I have come here to cheer you up, Aunt Cecily. I am sure we shall not quarrel over that." Her aunt's frown gradually disappeared. Guy began giving Adrienne a description of the village and the neighbourhood round. "We are just a small community here," he said, "who know all about each other's virtues and vices and discuss them lengthily when our days are dull and time hangs heavily on our hands. "Madame ma mère, of course, is the centre, and the past glories of our Château and the present decay is a never-ending topic of conversation. The Curé comes next. He is a mild little man, very fond of his flock, very conscientious in his duties, very wide in his charity. I always feel a better man after I have had a talk with him." "He wants too much," put in the Countess fretfully; "he seems to think I have bottomless gold chests from which I can give and give and give, whenever there is a birth or wedding or funeral." "The next in importance," continued Guy, "is our notary, a very small man with a big head, and a bigger idea of his own importance than anyone round him has. He has a wife who is what we call in America a climber. She looks to end her days as mistress of a Château. I hope it won't be this one. By the way, ma mère, is it true that you have sold the fishing to him? I knew the shooting was his, that was done last autumn; but I was hoping to get some good trout here." Adrienne could not help noticing the extreme uneasiness which the Countess showed during this speech. Her hands trembled visibly, as she peeled some fruit upon her plate. "How else do you expect me to live?" she said in quavering tones. "It is a struggle to exist. My doctor's bills must be paid." "Yes—yes—well—where was I? We'll dismiss the notary. He is clever; he lives by squeezing others; he is getting rich. The village folk regard him with awe. They love their Curé, they fear their notary. Who can I describe next? The doctor lives five miles away, he does not belong to the village. Ma mère will tell you all about him, she knows him better than any of us. Oh, I must tell you of little Agatha." His voice softened, the rather amused curl of his lips disappeared.