Adrienne rode through the village and noted on the outskirts a Château, standing amongst old trees. Then she came across an old lady, in a big mushroom hat, who was talking to one of the peasants. She wondered at seeing her out at that early hour, but from her face and voice she knew she must come from the Château. As Adrienne passed her, she stood still and regarded her with quiet interest. On the impulse of the moment Adrienne spoke in her best French: "Excuse me, Madame, but I am told that there is a Protestant Service held near here. Should I intrude if I attend?" "But certainly not," the old lady responded with a gracious little bow; "our Service is open to all. We have two, every Sunday, at ten o'clock and five." "I should like to come to the ten o'clock one if I may. I am staying with my aunt, Madame de Beaudessert." "Why, of course! I saw the Count the other day, and he mentioned your name to us. I should have called, but your aunt does not care for our visits. I felt it my duty to leave her a little tract on the sin of card-playing and gambling, and she resented it." "I am sure she would," said Adrienne, smiling. She bowed and rode back to her cousin. He had just finished his talk with the chaplain, Mr. Marline. As they were on their way home, Adrienne told him of her meeting with the old lady. "That would be Miss D'Aubignay. She is given to tract distribution; I received one on the evils of smoking. Now I wonder what yours will be!" "On youth and giddiness," said Adrienne, laughing; "but I don't think giddiness is a perquisite of mine—I am generally thought a frump by girls nowadays!" Then she asked him when Mr. Preston's funeral would be. He told her in two days' time, and that he would be buried in the small Protestant burial-ground in the village they had just left. "Could I send Miss Preston a few flowers?" Adrienne asked. "If you like. Take them to her if you will." He relapsed into silence, and their ride home was almost a speechless one. Adrienne felt she had a lot to think about, and was glad to get to the quiet of her own room. It was ridiculous she told herself to feel depressed because her cousin was going to leave them, but she could not combat it until she was with her aunt, and then she was her cheerful self again. CHAPTER XI A SUMMONS GUY departed three days later. He was very uncommunicative; to Adrienne, he seemed like a man walking in a dream. She hardly knew her energetic cousin. Her aunt complained bitterly of his want of confidence in her, and upbraided him with it when he came to wish her good-bye. "But, ma mère," he said, "this is not my life, my home; I am a bird of passage. I have been working at the farm for a bit so as to pull it together, and I pride myself upon having put a bit of work into Jean. He can go on by himself now. You did not think I was always going to sit in your pocket, did you?"