"He feels Uncle Tom's death intensely," she wrote; "and I cannot leave him alone. He has more claim upon me than Aunt Cecily, but somehow or other I feel torn in two; and I do want you to save the darling Château from the Bouveries if you can. Surely his rope is long enough now to hang him? I can't help hoping that you will save the situation. It is critical now, and that is why I am writing to you." She was relieved when this letter went. One day, when the Admiral was away on business, Adrienne rode over to see Phemie. She had had a note from her telling her of her happiness, but saying it was harvest time and consequently a very busy time at the farm. She found her baking bread in the delightful kitchen. Mrs. Moray was in the cornfields, and so was Dick. The girls kissed each other affectionately. "Why, Phemie, I don't know you! You look at least ten years younger." "I wish I could return the compliment. Nothing would take away your good looks, or your happy eyes, but you are thin and a little worn. I am afraid you have had a sad home-coming." "It is sad," said Adrienne, sitting down on the low window-seat, and removing her hat, letting the breeze from the open window fan her heated temples. "The house is a different place without Uncle Tom. It seems so silent and grave! Uncle Derrick is very quiet, and I feel getting very old and quiet too." "But you mustn't!" said Phemie energetically. "It's all wrong. You have your life before you, and you're young, younger than I. Oh, Adrienne, I cannot sometimes believe that my happiness is real! I have always looked upon Godfrey as an ideal modern knight; he is so good, so generous, so courteous to all, and the poorer and humbler a person is, the more he goes out of his way to befriend them. I used to look upon him as your particular property, and when I found you did not care about him, I felt angry with you; I was indignant because you could not appreciate him. And then, when you went away, we were thrown together, and I still thought it was only his kindness of heart towards one who was in a very monotonous and unpalatable groove. It was almost too much for me, when he came to close quarters and asked me to be his wife.