"And I really think you are doing it," said Guy, looking at her with a little smile about his lips. "Please don't interrupt me, but listen to your inconsistency. What about the sister of this man whom you condemn in such a wholesale way? Is she never to have her burden eased? Isn't an unsatisfactory brother whom she is hoping to reform, a very big burden for any woman to bear? Is she never to form a friendship because of it? Is she to be boycotted because of him?" Guy was standing in a leaning posture, his arm resting on the old terrace wall. He straightened himself at Adrienne's words, and looked away over the tree-tops in silence for a few minutes. Then he said gravely: "That's a straight thrust, my little cousin. I must weigh my words well, if you store them up against me in such a fashion." "If we talk from a height," said Adrienne demurely, "we must live up there." Guy did not appear to hear her. His eyes were still on the distant view, as he said very slowly: "I suppose I care more about you than her." Adrienne was a little startled. Her self-possession was shaken. She said quickly and nervously: "You cannot trust me if you think the existence or life of this unknown man could affect me in any way. It is his sister I should like to know and help. But I will say no more. I have given you my promise not to visit them. If I meet her by chance anywhere alone, I shall certainly be friendly, should she wish it. And as for my returning home, you know I must do it sooner or later, but I have promised Aunt Cecily to stay another fortnight or so. I will say good night. Ever since I was a small child, I have always refused to go to bed until I was friends again with anyone who had had a difference with me, so you and I must forget the events of this morning." "We will," said Guy heartily. He held her hand in his for a moment. "If I could tell you a certain bit of my life," he said, "you would understand my attitude towards these people. They have only come here lately, and they don't know of my existence here, and I don't want them to know it. But when they do, they'll remove themselves as far from my vicinity as possible." Adrienne looked at him wistfully. "And you won't explain further?" She left him, but he paced up and down the terrace for an hour later, with set lips and moody eyes. CHAPTER X A MORNING RIDE WITHIN the next few days Adrienne paid two visits in the village, one to little Agatha again and one to Madame Bouverie. This last one was compulsory; for a long time she had made excuses when invitations came to tea or to tennis, but her aunt insisted upon her accepting this one. It was to an "English tea" in the garden. "Madame Bouverie is angry; she says you think yourself too good for their company, and I cannot afford to displease her, much as I loathe her. It won't hurt you as much as it hurts me to continually receive her when she calls."