"And how do you find your dear aunt? We tell her she ought not to shut herself up so, it is so bad for her nerves; she should spend more time in Orleans, and only come here for the very hot weather. There is really, entre nous, no society here, a few old fossils, who from pecuniary reasons cannot leave their tumbledown places, and just vegetate with the cows and goats." Madame Nicholas was rising to go. She took an affectionate leave of the Countess, then turned to Adrienne, asking her the next day to come with her aunt "pour passer l'après midi avec moi." And Adrienne, after a quick glance towards her aunt, accepted the invitation with her pretty grace. Before Madame Nicholas had passed out of hearing, Madame Bouverie's shrill voice made itself heard: "Now, Madame, we can be happy together; I have something good and confidential to tell you. My husband is following me to bring you the good news. Is your niece in your confidence, may I ask? She looks so sweet and sympathetic I am sure she must be." Adrienne had made a movement as if she were going to leave her aunt alone with her visitor, but the Countess signed to her to remain. CHAPTER VII THE LOSS OF AN HEIRLOOM THE poor Countess was now ill at ease; she reminded Adrienne of a mouse under the fascination of the playful taps of a cat's paws. Then Madame Bouverie proceeded to give her good news: "A rich American, a client of my husband's, is anxious to give his daughter, an only child, a little souvenir of his visit to Orleans. He wants something antique, historic, with perhaps a little romance attaching to it. He does not mind how much he gives, and we thought, dear friend, of your great need, and cast our mind on your many treasures. Suddenly I bethought myself of your beautiful watch set in diamonds—the enamel one given to your family by Queen Marie Antoinette. It is a rare chance; you will never have such another." The Countess straightened herself in her chair: "But, Madame," she said stiffly, "I told you that was an heirloom, not to be taken out of the family. I have no desire, no power to sell that. I told you so when you wished yourself to buy it from me." "Oh, dear Madame, you have the power. Who can prevent you? Not your stepson? To me he seems an amiable young man quite absorbed in his farm, and indifferent to you and your Château. Well, well—I see my husband coming up the drive, he will talk to you about it. It will smooth out all your difficulties if you consent to part with it. Now, Mademoiselle, shall we take a little walk together round the garden, and leave these two to talk over business matters?" Monsieur Bouverie had arrived. Adrienne was prepared to dislike him, but as his dark, piercing eyes met hers, she felt a slight shiver down her spine.