"It is getting very dull for me; I am feeling tired. I think I shall go to bed, and I am sure that Adrienne ought to do so. We will wish you good night, Guy." Guy was off his stool at once. "Good night, ma mère. I think you and I must have a little business talk to-morrow. Can you give me half an hour before déjeuner? No? Then what hour will suit you? It is about the cheque. At five, then? I will come round at five. I shall be in Orleans to-morrow morning. I have to go there about farming business. Now, Cousin Adrienne, explore inside and out of the Château, and make friends with everybody. Then you will feel quite at home." When Adrienne laid her head upon her pillow a little later, she said to herself: "Courage! It is not so bad as I feared. In spite of Aunt Cecily, I believe I am going to be happy here." CHAPTER VI HER AUNT'S CONFIDENCES SUCH a lovely morning! Adrienne got up and threw open her windows and shutters. Annette brought her coffee and petit pain at eight o'clock, and told her that Madame would like to see her at ten. Adrienne lay in her comfortable bed, and looked out upon the flowering chestnuts, and at the tiny village clustering round the church on the green knoll. She heard the bells of the oxen as they passed along the lanes, and the scent of the lilacs close to the house was wafted upwards to her. She wondered what her uncles were doing, and how they would like having breakfast alone together. And then her thoughts focused themselves upon her aunt. She began to see that this French home of hers might have a fascination for her, and would make it difficult for her to leave it. "I could be happy here myself," Adrienne murmured to herself, "if only the uncles were with me. I wonder if I could get them to come over, and see it. I might say I would not come back unless they came to fetch me!" She dawdled over her dressing, then sat down at her writing-table and commenced a long letter to her uncles. She heard an outside clock strike ten, and, shutting up her writing-case, she made her way to her aunt's room. The Countess's room was more English in its furniture than any other part of the Château. She had pretty chintz curtains and covers for her couches and chairs, photos and knickknacks were in profusion upon tables and cabinets. Madame herself, in a blue satin tea-gown with a boudoir cap, was sitting in an easy-chair by the open window. She looked older in the morning light, and the fretful lines in her face were more discernible. "Don't kiss me," she said; "I am not too fond of it at any time. Have you slept well? Ah! You have youth and strength, both of which I have lost!" "Yes, I have slept splendidly, and feel ready for anything," Adrienne said brightly. Then Madame began to give her a list of things she wanted her to do—things which her daughter had always done, and which had suffered since her departure.