Presently she began to talk, in a pleasanter strain than I had yet heard her use. Was the pain less severe? she asked; and now she changed the linen cloths dipped in something cool and fragrant, infinitely soothing to the irritated skin. I must have been very quick, to prevent further mischief; in truth, it was a great debt they owed me, and she, I must believe her, shared the gratitude of her niece and nephew, even though her feelings were less vivaciously expressed. I told her it was nothing, and less than nothing, that I had done, and I thought there had been far too much said about it already. I was deeply thankful that no harm had come to Mlle. de Ste. Valerie, but I could claim no merit, beyond that of having my eyes open, and my wits about me. She bowed in assent. "Your wits about you!" she said. "But that in itself is no small matter, M. D'Arthenay, I assure you. It is not every young man who can say as much. Your eyes open, and your wits about you? You are fortunate, believe me." Her tone was so strange, I knew not what reply to make, if any; again I waited her lead. "The young people with whom I have to do are so widely different from this!" she said, presently. "Hearts of gold, heads of feather! you must have observed this, M. D'Arthenay." I replied with some warmth that I had recognised the gold, but not the other quality. She smiled, a smile that had no more warmth in it than February sunshine on an icicle. "You are modest!" she said. "I give you credit for more discernment than you admit. Confess that you think our marquis needs a stronger head beside him, to aid in his affairs." I had thought this, but I conceived it no part of my duty to say as much. I was silent, therefore, and looked at her, wondering. "Confess," she went on, "that you saw as much, when he came to your estate--of which the title escapes me--in North America; that you thought it might be well for him to have a companion, an adviser, with more definite ideas of life; well for him, and possibly--incidentally, of course--for the companion?" "Madam!" I said. I could say no more, being confounded past the point of speech. "It is because of this friendly interest in my nephew," the lady went on, taking no notice of my exclamation. "In my _nephew_, that I think to give you pleasure by announcing a visit that we are shortly to receive. A guest is expected at Chateau Claire in a few days; in fact, the day after to-morrow. My nephew has doubtless spoken to you of the Vicomte de Crecy?" I said no, I had heard of no such person. "Not heard of him? Unpardonable remissness in Yvon! Not heard of the vicomte? Of the future husband of Mlle. de Ste. Valerie?"