They returned to the house; he took her to the end of the hall up a few steps along a corridor, and then opened the door into a big panelled room with beautifully carved ceiling. The coat of arms of the Beaudesserts was carved over the great mantelpiece. A long table with an imposing-looking carved chair at the head of it was in the centre of the room. The walls were lined with books behind glass doors. In a corner of the room was a big writing-table, covered with books and papers, and it was in this corner that Guy seated himself when Adrienne had duly admired the ceiling and the room. She left him there, and went upstairs to her aunt. Tea was brought to them in her boudoir adjoining her bedroom. She made a little moue, when Adrienne mentioned Guy. "Oh, yes, I have to be called over the coals by him, my perfect irreproachable prig of a stepson! But as to any help or assistance, it is useless to expect it of him." "He always speaks so sympathetically of you," said Adrienne, feeling she must defend the absent one. "Oh, là!" Madame shrugged her shoulders in French fashion, and Adrienne said no more. It was with very slow steps that Madame descended the stairs to the library. "I shall not be long. We will go for a little walk; will you put out my hat and coat for me? You will find them in my wardrobe." But it was three-quarters of an hour before Madame joined her again, and when she did so, Adrienne saw at once that she had been crying. "He is an inquisitor, my stepson," she said angrily to Adrienne; "he questions and cross-examines, and ferrets out every minute detail that I would keep to myself. But we will not talk of him; we will take the air." They walked in the grounds of the Château, afterwards had a quiet dinner together, and then in the salon, over their bright wood fire, Madame suddenly made a confidante of Adrienne. She poured out in a torrent of talk all her trials and money troubles, and Adrienne listened and tried to advise and comfort. Monsieur Bouverie, the notary, figured largely in the background.