"We _must_ see about the things for this dinner. To-day is Tuesday--and then I want to speak to Mere Rafut, and see if she can come to work. I have no dresses to put on, and there will be the races, and some dances." "Oh!" said the marchioness, evidently annoyed, "you are going to have that frightful old woman again." "Why, grandmamma, she's a very nice, straightforward sort of woman, and then she works so well." "That may be; but her appearance is terribly against her." "Yes, grandmamma, that is so, she is not beautiful--Mere Rafut is old and poor, and old age and poverty do not improve the appearance; but it is so convenient for me to have her; and she is so happy to come here, and be well-paid, and well-fed, and well-treated, after being accustomed to her actresses, who either pay her badly or not at all." By this time Bijou was standing just behind Madame de Bracieux's arm-chair. She added in a coaxing way, as she threw her pretty pink arms around the old lady's neck: "It is quite a charity, grandmamma; and a charity not only to Mere Rafut, but to me." "Have her then," answered the marchioness, "have your frightful old woman--let her come as much as you like!" "Well, then, good-bye for the present." "How are you going?--in the victoria?" "No, in the trap; I shall be quicker if I take the trap--I can go there in twenty-five minutes. "And _you_ are going to drive?" "Why, yes, grandmamma." "And with the sun so hot? You'll have a stroke." "Shall I drive you, Bijou?" proposed M. de Rueille. "I want to get some tobacco, and some powder, and two fishing-rods to replace those that Pierrot broke. I shall be glad to go to town." "And I shall be delighted for you to drive me." "When shall we start?" "At once, please." Just as they were going out of the room, the marchioness called out to them: "Beware of accidents. Don't go too quickly downhill." "You can be quite easy, grandmamma, I never lose my head." II. IN the evening as they were driving through Pont-sur-Loire on their way back to Bracieux, M. de Rueille said to Denyse: "There is no mistake about it, Bijou, my dear with you there is no chance of passing by unnoticed. Oh, dear, no!" She glanced at the foot-passengers, who were turning round to look at her with intense curiosity, and answered: "It's my pink dress that--" "No, it is not your dress, it is you yourself." Her large violet eyes grew larger with astonishment as she asked: "I, myself? But why?" "Oh, Bijou, my dear, it is not at all nice of you to act like that with your poor old cousin." "You think I am acting?" she exclaimed, looking more and more astounded. "Well, it appears like it to me; it is impossible for you not to know how pretty you are. In the first place, you have eyes, and then you are told often enough for--" "I am told?--by whom?" "By everyone. Why, even I, although I am nearly your uncle and a settled-down respectable sort of man."