"Do not be so ceremonious. Come to see me when you have time, without regard to business. I am greatly indebted to you, Monsieur Thierry. You have not only given me the clear understanding of my position which was so necessary to me. You have given me good advice and have not led my honor astray in order to protect my selfish interests. In fact I see that you feel perhaps a little friendliness for me, and I thank you with all my heart." The countess had a way of saying such simple things which made her extremely charming. Modest and dignified in her every act and every word, there was in her manners an indefinable suggestion of restrained emotion which denoted a too full heart, a heart seeking a fit receptacle for its overflow. The baroness would surely have considered that she was altogether too grateful and effusive to the pettifogger, who was only too happy to act for her. She would have told her that one must not spoil people of that sort by letting them see that they are necessary to one. Julie, being perfectly sure of herself, notwithstanding her pathetic humility, was not afraid of placing her friendship too low by bestowing it on a clever and honorable man; and, moreover, there was taking place within her, as we have seen, an insensible yet rapid reaction against the circle in which she had hitherto lived. "A most delightful woman!" said Marcel Thierry to himself as he left her. "Deuce take me! if I were not an attorney, married to the best woman on earth, and the father of a bouncing boy--all of which things tend to guarantee the strength of a man's brain--I should be in love with this countess myself! oh! head over heels in love, I verily believe! I will tell my wife so this evening, and we will have a good laugh over it." "How did it happen," Madame d'Estrelle was thinking at that moment, "that I did not ask Thierry what it is most important for me to know? I thought of it, and then I forgot it. I must find out, however! If this young Thierry lives with his mother, it will not be proper for him to make my garden his usual place of promenade. But perhaps he is not a young man. Did he say that he was young? His father was very old. But did he say that he was so very old? I cannot remember at all. However, my servants must know. Servants know everything." She rang. "Camille," she said to her maid, "has this Madame Thierry, who lives in the old pavilion yonder,--a most excellent person, I know--has she any children? I talked with her yesterday, but I didn't think of asking her." "She has a son," Camille replied. "About how old?" "Twenty-five, judging from his face." "He is married, of course?" "No, madame." "Where does he live?" "At the pavilion, with his mother." "Is he a good sort of man? What do people say of him?"