Presently two figures approached the new garden, crossing the park from the old avenue, and Monsieur de Sainfoy went to meet them with an air of cordial welcome. "Who are those people?" said the Comtesse, putting up her eyeglass. "It is my brother Joseph and his little daughter," Urbain answered. "He has his gun, I see, as usual. I suppose he was shooting in this direction." "Does he take the child out shooting with him? He is certainly very eccentric." Urbain shrugged his shoulders. "Poor dear Joseph! A little, perhaps. Yes, he is unlike other people. To tell you the truth, I am only too glad when his odd fancies spend themselves on the management of Henriette." "Or mis-management! He will ruin the child. He brought her here the other day, and she appeared to me quite savage." "Really, madame! Poor Henriette! She is a sociable child and clever, too. My wife and Angelot are very fond of her. I think she must have been shy in your presence." "Oh, not at all. She talked to Hervé like a grown-up woman. I was amused. When I say 'savage,' I mean that she had evidently been in no society, and had not the faintest idea how a young person of her age is expected to behave. She was far more at her ease than Hélène, for instance." "Ah, dear madame! there is something pleasing, is there not, in such a frank trust in human nature! The child is very like her father." "Those manners may be pretty in a child of six," said Madame de Sainfoy, "but they are quite out of place in a girl of her age--how old is she?" "I don't exactly know. Twelve or thirteen, I think." "Then there is still some hope for her. She may be polished into shape. I shall suggest to your brother that she come here every day to take lessons with Sophie and Lucie. I dare say she is very ignorant." "I am afraid she is. What a charming idea! How like your kindness! My brother will certainly accept your offer with enthusiasm. I shall insist upon it." "He will, if he is a wise man," said Madame de Sainfoy. They both laughed: evidently the wisdom of Monsieur Joseph was not proverbial in the family. "Mademoiselle Moineau is an excellent governess, though she is growing old," she went on. "I have known her make civilised women out of the most unpromising material. I shall tell your brother that I consider it settled. It will be good for Sophie and Lucie, too, to have the stimulus of a companion." "You are not afraid that--You know my brother's very strong opinions?" "Do you think a child of twelve is likely to make converts?" she said, with an amused smile. "No, cousin. The influence will be the other way, but your brother will not be foolish enough, I hope, to consider that a danger." Urbain shook his head gently: he would answer for nothing. He murmured, "A charming plan! The best thing that could happen to the child." "A pity, too," said Madame de Sainfoy, looking out of the window, "that she should grow up without any young companions but your son. Where are they going now?"