"But," Esperance replied quickly, "that hardness is simply a light veneer, the result of her education. _'Camille_,' who knew nothing of life except through the disillusioned account of her friend in the Convent, would soon become human if _'Perdican'_ had a less complicated psychology." She stopped, and was silent a minute. The Duke looked at her. "All the world has not the candour of a Count Styvens," he said. This unfortunate sentence exactly answered a fleeting thought that was passing in Esperance's brain. "So much the worse for 'all the world,'" she said quietly and left him. Her father and Doctor Potain came in at this moment. "What are you plotting against me?" she said, going up to them. François caressed her velvet cheek. "You shall soon know." The Duke had remained dumbfounded in his chair. The sudden mastery of this child, who had for the second time rebuked him, touched his pride. His instinct as an irresistible charmer told him she was not indifferent to him. Still he could not define in what way he appealed to her. Was it physical? Was it of a higher order? After a little cogitation, he concluded that that was the secret. However, he was wrong. Esperance was subjugated by the attraction of his masculinity and strength, which was subtly energetic and audacious. His taste and independence appealed to her artistic nature. His vibrant voice, the grace of his slender hands, the lightness of his spirits always alert, his superiority at every sport, made the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche quite like a real hero of romance. He had expected to subjugate the little Parisian idol, and found himself thwarted by her. This rather annoyed him, and he vowed to conquer her. Doctor Potain, who was looking at his watch, now chimed in with, "My dear Duke, we must be thinking of leaving; the boat will not wait for us." Charles de Morlay thanked his farm hosts, and after bowing elegantly over Mme. Darbois's hand, looked for Esperance. "Jean," said Professor Darbois, "look and see if you can find Esperance, and tell her to come and say good-bye to our dear Doctor." But Jean returned alone. Esperance was not to be found. She had flown. "She had not forgotten about the boat," said the young actor. "Perhaps she has gone on her bicycle to gather news of old mother Kabastron, who is very ill. That is about ten minutes' distance from here. I will ride ahead on my bicycle." The Duke laughed gaily, and prepared a scathing witticism with which to wither the young girl. But he did not have the pleasure of delivering it to Esperance, who had hidden herself behind her portrait at the foot of the rook. She reappeared much later, and was rebuked by her father for having shown such discourtesy to his guests. "You know very well, papa dear, that I am very grateful to Doctor Potain, and I should not have gone away if he had been alone." M. and Mme. Darbois looked at each other and at Esperance.