"`In Paris one learns much,' said Nanette. `Much ill I might have learnt had my lady not taken care of me almost as if I had been her own sister. But the servants all talk, and chatter, and complain, and threaten--and my lady, she too told me a great deal. She has almost no one to talk to there--no one who sees things as she does. And she told me to tell you--her good friends she always calls you--all I could. She wants you to understand how she is placed. There is nothing she longs for so much as to return to Valmont, and from month to month she is hoping to see her way to doing so. But the Marquis opposes it, and you know he is Mademoiselle's guardian by law, and my lady does not like to anger him; his temper, too, grows worse and worse, though he is gentler to her than to any one else. But you can fancy it is not a home such as our dear ladies can be happy in. And at times I can see that the Countess is really afraid. There is talk of dark and wild things. There have been meetings of the people where dreadful threats have been uttered against the king and queen, the clergy and the nobles--against every one in high position, and sometimes the police and the soldiers even, could scarce disperse them. Many think the people once roused will not be quieted again. And of all the great rich nobles who have oppressed the poor and made themselves hated, none, or few at least, are more hated than the Marquis.' "`And our dear Countess is his sister!' exclaimed Madame Germain, over whose cheerful face had crept a cloud of foreboding. "`I wonder you could bear to leave them,' said Pierre, almost indignantly; but Nanette did not resent his tone. She turned to him, her eyes full of tears. "`I did my utmost to stay,' she replied, `but my lady would not hear of it. Albert had waited so long, she said; it was not right to put him off still, though for my part I could have found it in my heart to put him off altogether. I saw that the idea worried her. Then, too, I think she was glad for me to come home to talk to you--to explain things a little. She dare not write very much--letters are never very safe. And she is so lonely--in the midst of all that racket--she and Mademoiselle Edmee.' "`Have they no friends they care for?' asked Pierre. "`Few--very few. And already of those some have left the country. Yes, indeed,' said Nanette, `it is not yet much known, but several of the wiser and far-seeing among the nobility have gone to Switzerland--some to Holland, and to England, on pretence of travelling, but it is known they do not intend to return till they see how things turn out.' "`It seems almost cowardly,' said Pierre. "`Yes,' said Nanette, `so my lady said. But I do not know that it is so. What can the few do in such a state of things? And they have their children to think of.' "`It is true. But _our_ lady need not go so far. In no foreign country could she be so safe as here in her own Valmont.'