But Adrian Urmand was altogether inattentive either to the scenery now before him, or to the prospect of the mountain innkeeper's winter life. He knew that two hours and a half would take them down the mountain into Granpere, and that when there, it would be at once necessary that he should begin a task the idea of which was by no means pleasant to him. He was quite sure now that he wished he had remained at Basle, and that he had accepted Marie's letter as final. He told himself again and again that he could not make her marry him if she chose to change her mind. What was he to say, and what was he to do when he got to Granpere, a place which he almost wished that he had never seen in spite of those profitable linen-buyings? And now when Michel Voss began to talk to him about the scenery, and what this man up in the mountain did in the winter,--at this moment when his terrible trouble was so very near him,--he felt it to be an insult, or at least a cruelty. 'What can he do from December till April except smoke and drink?' asked Michel Voss. 'I don't care what he does,' said Urmand, turning away. 'I only know I wish I'd never come here.' 'Take a glass of wine, my friend,' said Michel. 'The mountain air has made you chill.' Urmand took the glass of wine, but it did not cheer him much. 'We shall have it all right before the day is over,' continued Michel. 'I don't think it will ever be all right,' said the other. 'And why not? The fact is, you don't understand young women; as how should you, seeing that you have not had to manage them? You do as I tell you, and just be round with her. You tell her that you don't desire any change yourself, and that after what has passed you can't allow her to think of such a thing. You speak as though you had a downright claim, as you have; and all will come right. It's not that she cares for him, you know. You must remember that. She has never even said a word of that kind. I haven't a doubt on my mind as to which she really likes best; but it's that stupid promise, and the way that George has had of making her believe that she is bound by the first word she ever spoke to a young man. It's only nonsense, and of course we must get over it.' Then they were summoned out, the horse having finished his meal, and were rattled down the hill into Granpere without many more words between them. One other word was spoken, and that word was hardly pleasant in its tone. Urmand at least did not relish it. 'I shall go away at once if she doesn't treat me as she ought,' said he, just as they were entering the village.