Adrienne glanced up at the handsome broad-shouldered man smiling down upon them with lordly condescension. "No, I don't think it is at all like Cousin Guy," she said. "He is simpler, straighter, and not such a society man as this Count must have been." "Oh, you funny girl! I quite agree that the Count is not a society man. Well, well, I must go! I am glad to have had a look at him again. I dote upon good pictures; but then, though I do not paint myself, I am an artist by nature." As they were retracing their steps, they met the Countess coming hastily out of her boudoir. She looked surprised at seeing them, and Adrienne explained matters, but her aunt said nothing. She was evidently uneasy and frightened. Madame Bouverie occupied Adrienne's time and attention, till her husband had finished his talk with Madame, and then they both took their leave and rolled away in their car, Madame Bouverie with pleased elation in her eyes. Adrienne guessed, without her aunt telling her, that the valuable old watch had changed its owner. Of course she was told all about it very soon, and the Countess cried like a child. "It is no good, my chérie," she said, "what can I do? The bailiffs will be in possession unless I pay some of my bills. This watch will bring me a nice little sum. Two hundred and fifty pounds in English money is not to be despised." "Have you got the money?" Adrienne could not refrain from asking. "Oh, no, no, but in a few days I shall receive it. My dear, I think we could take the car to Orleans and do a little shopping. I want to call at my flat, and you would like to see the old town, would you not? We will give ourselves some pleasure. A little ready money is so acceptable in these bad times." "I wish you need not have parted with the watch," said Adrienne. "Yes, I refused absolutely at first, but somehow Monsieur Bouverie always persuades me against my will. When he is looking at me and talking in his pleasant, smiling way, I feel absolutely in his power. And he does reason things out so. And it is very true that Guy does not care about these things, and as Monsieur Bouverie says—for whom am I keeping them? When I die, they will be sold in a sale for mere bagatelles!" Adrienne was silent; she felt that things were going wrong, but that she was unable to right them. And she had a longing desire that her cousin might know about this latest exploit of Monsieur Bouverie's. She was not surprised in a few days' time, when she came into her aunt's room, to find her once more in tears. "Oh, my dear, such a disappointment! Monsieur Bouverie has only sent me a hundred francs for that watch!" "What a villain he must be!" ejaculated Adrienne.