"I assure you that both I and the chevalier are friends, whom you would do well to trust." "You take me for a cuckoo, and all the while I am a dove," cried lively Aglae. Then seeing that the abbe was nonplussed, she spoke musingly, as though discussing a grave matter with herself. "What a pity," she observed regretfully to the landscape, "that the dear man cannot be explicit. He is afraid that the lowly governess may supplant him with his brother, and would like to tumble me neck and crop into his yawning gaping trap! In so shrewd a gentleman stupidity is sad." She pretended not to see the gleam of menace in the abbe's eyes, or the sharp clenching of his hands, and turned with an ingenuous look of artless innocence when he blurted out in anger,-- "Afraid! I am afraid of no one. I can speak more plainly, if you will." "No need," replied the governess, carelessly, "for I can see round corners quite as well as you. I can read your character up to a point, and beyond that I confess I am baffled. I have changed my mind--women have the right, haven't they?--and will give you a lesson in candour. There is no witness to our cosy chat, for the birds are gone a-picnicing, so why should we beat about the bush? Stick to the truth, abbe. You say you are afraid of none, the while you are afraid of me. You look with fear on my growing influence over the marquis, and in that you are right, for I intend that he shall be my slave, unable to live out of my company. See how plain spoken I am, whilst you are full of artifice! When I came here I had no projects, being content to drift like a cork, leaving events to sort themselves, and my plans even now are of the vaguest. The marquis is rich. Do not suppose for a moment that I propose to become his mistress. Never, never, never! _ce serait trop bete!_ If his puling wife were to die I might condescend to succeed her, but that is not just now within the limits of the probable. I like the marquis, and I like the grey old chateau, and I enjoy the sweets of wealth. Why trouble about the morrow, then? Whatever I may choose to do I shall succeed in it, for patience is one of my pet virtues--not but what I love them all--and success is made of patience as the sea of drops." "You are a singular woman!" remarked the abbe. "Am I not? Frankness is so nice when no one's by. My long speech is not finished yet, for I would like to add that I like you too, and should regret to have you for an enemy. Here is my point of doubt. I saw before I had been here a day that you were enamoured of the pretty doll. I do not blame you, for most men are idiots. They cannot learn that good looks are provokingly transient, while intellect bears wear and tear." "Your candour is half confidence disguised," laughed Pharamond. "What can you be aiming at if you disdain to become his mistress?"