"You have said it, monsieur. My own. Could I do better?" "You could not have a better counsellor. I retire at once," said the Prefect. Then an idea crossed his mind, for just as he was met, with a friendly greeting--"A word with you, Monsieur le Préfet"--from Joseph de la Marinière, his eyes fell on Hélène de Sainfoy as she turned away from Angelot at the door. He had already admired her at a distance, so far the most beautiful thing at Lancilly, in spite of the oppressed and weary air that suited so ill with her fresh girlhood. "Mon Dieu, what a sacrilege! But no, impossible!" said the Prefect to himself. Several young people were carrying the coffee-cups about the room, Sophie and Lucie in white frocks among them. It was generally the part of the young girls; the men did not often help them, so that Madame de Sainfoy looked at Angelot with surprise, and a shade of displeasure, when he approached her with Hélène. Angelot was perfectly grave and self-possessed. On his side, no one would have known that he had ever met General Ratoneau before, certainly not that he regarded him as an enemy. He hardly changed colour, even when Ratoneau waved him aside with a scowl, and stretched across him, without rising, to take his cup from Hélène. "Come," he said, "I'll have my coffee from those pretty hands, or not at all." Hélène looked up startled, and met the man's bold eyes. Angelot turned away instantly, and in a few seconds more she had joined him, and they were attending to other guests. Angelot commanded himself nobly; his time for punishing the General would come some day, but was not yet. As he and his cousin walked together along the room, the Vicomte des Barres, Monsieur Joseph's friend, pointed them out to Madame de la Marinière. "A pretty pair of cousins, madame!" "Ah, yes," she said a little sadly. "I cannot always realise that Ange is grown up. To see him, a man, in the salon at Lancilly, makes me feel very old." The Vicomte murmured smiling compliments, but they soon turned to talk which was more serious, if not a little treasonable. And in the meanwhile other eyes followed the two young people: Madame de Sainfoy's, while she doubted whether it might be necessary to snub Monsieur Ange de la Marinière; General Ratoneau's, with a long, steady, considering gaze, at the end of which he turned to his hostess and said, "You advise me to marry, madame! Give me your daughter." For the moment, even the practical Madame de Sainfoy was both startled and shocked; so much so that she lifted her fan to hide the change in her face. But she collected herself instantly, and lowered it with a smile. "Indeed, Monsieur le Général, you do us great honour"--she began. "But you were good enough to ask my advice, and I should not, I think--in fact, my daughter is still rather young, rather unformed, for such a position--and then--"