“Forgive me, do, for troubling you with an exhibition of my grief. I forgot myself. Father told me not to cry before people, and I will not again. Come, let us go into the chateau; it looks so cool and inviting with the doors and windows open and the muslin curtains blowing in and out, and the scent of clover and new hay everywhere. The world is very beautiful, and I mean to be happy.” During this scene in the grounds Mrs. Jerry, the housekeeper, had been inspecting the little lady from behind the kitchen blinds, and now, as the party entered the wide hall, she came forward to meet her in her neat calico dress and clean linen collar, with her hair combed smoothly back from her frank, open brow. She knew she was there on trial, subject to Miss Reinette’s fancy, and as she liked the place, and was desirous of keeping it, she naturally felt some anxiety with regard to the impression she should make upon the girl. She was not long kept in suspense, for something in her face attracted Reinette at once, and without the least hauteur in her manner she went forward with outstretched hands, and said: “Mrs. Jerry, I am so glad you are here, I know I shall like you, and you must like me in all my moods, for I am not always alike. There are two of me, one good and one bad—though I mean to shut the bad one out of doors in this my new home. And now, please, take these flowers and put them in water for me. I don’t wish any one to show me over the house.” Turning now to Mr. Beresford she said, “I’d rather find my way alone and guess which is my room and which was meant for him,”—here her lip began to quiver, but she kept up bravely and went on: “You will come and see me to-morrow, and I shall ask you so many things. Father said I was to trust you and go to you for everything. By and by, though, I shall take care of myself. And now, good-by till to-morrow afternoon.” She gave him her hand, and he had no alternative but to go, although he would so gladly have lingered longer, so deeply interested was he already in this strange girl with the two natures, one proud, cold, scornful, and passionate; the other gentle, and soft, and sweet as the flowers she loved so dearly. He might have been more interested still had he seen her standing in the door with the great tears drooping from her long eyelashes as she watched him going down the hill and felt that now, indeed, she was alone in her desolation with her new life all before her. “I like him because he was father’s friend, and because he seems a gentleman,” she thought; and then as she remembered _those other people_ who had claimed her for their own, and who were not like Mr. Beresford, she shuddered and felt her other self mastering her again. Just then Mrs. Jerry appeared, asking if she could do anything for her, and if she would not like to go to her room. “No, no—go away!” Reinette answered, almost angrily; “I want nothing but to be let alone. I can find my way. I must work it out myself.”