He had not taken his eyes off Bijou, and was going away again when the marchioness, looking at him indulgently, and with an amused expression in her eyes, called him back. "Will you not stay and have a smoke here, Monsieur Giraud? Is there such a hurry as all that for the correction of those exercises?" "Oh, no, madame!" answered the tutor eagerly, retracing his steps, "there is no hurry at all." The old lady leaned forward towards Madame de Rueille, who was silently working at a handsome piece of tapestry, and said to her with a smile: "He is not like the abbe--this young man!" Bertrade lifted her pretty head and answered gravely: "No!" "You look as though you pitied him?" "I do, with all my heart." "And why, pray?" "Because the poor fellow, after coming to us as gay as a lark a fortnight ago, and winning all our hearts, will go away from here sad and unhappy, his heart heavy with grief or anger." "Oh, you always see the black side of things; he thinks Bijou is sweet, he admires her and likes to be with her; but that is all!" "You know very well, grandmamma, that Bijou is perfectly adorable, and so attractive that everyone is fascinated by her." The marchioness pointed to her great-nephew, Jean de Blaye, who, ever since he had left the window, did not appear to be taking any notice of what was going on around him. "Everyone?" she said, almost angrily; "no, not everyone. Look at Jean, he is as blind as the abbe!" Jean de Blaye was sitting motionless in a large arm-chair; there was an impassive expression on his face, and a far-away look in his eyes. He appeared to be in a reverie, and the younger lady glanced across at him, as she answered: "I am afraid that he is only acting blind!" "Oh, nonsense!" said Madame de Bracieux delighted, "do you think that Bijou could possibly interest Jean enough, for instance, to keep him, even for a time, from his actresses, his horses, his theatres, and the stupid life he generally leads?--You really think so?" "I do think so!" "And how long have you thought this?" "Oh, only just now. When he told us with such conviction that '_he did not care all that much about being reminded of Paris_,' I felt that he was speaking the truth. I began to wonder then what could have made him forget Paris. I wondered and wondered--and I found out." "Bijou?" "Exactly." "So much the better if that really should be so. For my part, I do not think it looks like it. He takes no notice of her." "When we are watching him--no." "He seems low-spirited and absent-minded."