"Ah, Mademoiselle, I dare not begin to talk of her, or of what she has done and is doing in the village here. The Curé himself loves and reverences her, he says she has taught him many things, and that in our religion Mademoiselle is something supernatural, for our priests, you know, are the guardians of our souls." Adrienne had reached the gate. She felt reluctant to leave, but as she walked home her thoughts were busy. First, with her aunt, then with little Agatha, lastly with herself. For the rest of that day the sweet voice rang in her ears: "Where is the dear Lord in your life? Far away; or inside and close?" The following day her aunt seemed much better in herself, and in the afternoon she asked Adrienne to take a note to Madame Nicholas for her. "Do not leave it with anyone. Put it into her hands yourself, and if she is not at home, bring it back to me." Then Adrienne understood. A few days before, her aunt and she had spent a long afternoon with Madame Nicholas in her beautiful garden. Relays of fruit, cakes, syrups and cooling drinks were served, and there were two tables of Bridge players under the trees. The Countess joined one of these groups. It was after this visit that she became so depressed and retired to bed. Adrienne guessed that she had lost money over the game, and this note was enclosing the amount due for her debts. She wondered how she had got it, and found herself involuntarily casting her eyes round the Château to see if any of its treasures were missing. She could not discover any blank space on walls or tables. And then on the impulse of the moment she told her aunt about the loss of the peasant woman's cow. "I thought it was a child she had lost; but I suppose their cows are as precious to them as their children." The Countess seemed supremely indifferent to the story. "They are always crying over something or other—these peasants—it is either a bad harvest, or a pig lost, or some epidemic carries off their fowls." "I was wondering if we could help her at all?" "Help her! My dear child, I can't help them in my state of poverty. I never heard of such a thing! I've forbidden the Curé to come to me any more with his begging appeals. Now don't lose any more time, but take my note at once." Adrienne set out for her walk. Her way lay through the woods, and the fresh green loveliness around her, the sheets of bluebells on grassy slopes, and the young bracken, uncurling under her feet, delighted and refreshed her. Through the woods, across two flowery meadows, and then into the winding lanes she went, finally reaching her destination just as a car of smart people was coming through the gates. Madame Nicholas was one of them. She stopped the car and apologized to Adrienne for not welcoming her to the house. "We are just off to a friend's place near Orleans." Adrienne gave her her aunt's note, and saw a gleam of content in Madame Nicholas's eyes.