"How warm you must be, my dear Bijou," called out the marchioness, appearing at one of the windows. "Oh, no, grandmamma," answered Denyse, taking M. de Rueille's hand in order to descend from her horse. "M. Giraud and Pierrot must be warm--I am all right." She kissed Jeanne heartily, spoke to M. Dubuisson, and then looked in a hesitating way towards the young professor, who was contemplating her in surprise. "Bijou, this is Monsieur Spiegel," said Mademoiselle Dubuisson. With a graceful, pretty movement, which was very taking, Bijou held out her little hand to the young man. "We are friends at once," she said; and then, as she moved away with Jeanne, she whispered: "He is charming, you know, quite charming!" M. Spiegel perhaps overheard this kindly criticism, or else it was just by accident that he happened to turn very red at that moment. "Go and change your dress quickly, Bijou!" commanded the marchioness. "But, grandmamma, I am not warm, really and truly." "Come here! Let me see!" In a docile way, Bijou went up to Madame de Bracieux. "Well, grandmamma?" she said, when the marchioness had satisfied herself by putting her finger between the young girl's neck and her collar, "wasn't I right?" "Yes, it's quite true," said Madame de Bracieux unwillingly, "she is not warm at all; it is incomprehensible! Well, stay as you are then, if you like." She made her grand-daughter turn round just in front of her, and then remarked, in a satisfied tone, "You look very well like that. Those little white, pique jackets are very becoming." "They suit Bijou," said Bertrade, "because, with her complexion, everything suits her; but these little English jackets are very unbecoming to most women." Abbe Courteil looked at the black skirt, the white jacket, and then at Bijou herself. "At all events, the black and white together is perfectly charming. Mademoiselle Denyse looks like a big swallow." "Well, well!" exclaimed the marchioness, with a benevolent expression in her eyes, "that's very pretty, now, that comparison!" Though she herself was the topic of conversation, Bijou was paying no attention to what was being said, but was talking in a pleasant way to M. Spiegel, a little apart from the others. He was a serious, placid, young man, with a somewhat rigid expression. His eyes, however, had a merry twinkle, which relieved the severity of his mouth, and the austerity of his deportment. He was rather tall, and slightly made, and was dressed in dark clothes of a good cut. Altogether M. Spiegel might have passed for a young clergyman. Fascinated and almost bewildered by Bijou's charm and wonderful beauty, he was gazing at her with a look of surprise and admiration in his eyes, whilst the young girl, for her part, kept stealing a glance at him, for she was quite astonished to find that Jeanne's _fiance_ was so satisfactory-looking.