Dazed by the blow, Monin fell on the turf a step or two away; while Madame de la Thomassinière gave a little shriek because his nose had almost unseated her. "How awkward you are!" she cried; "if I hadn't held on tight, I should have fallen. Come and stop me, and help me to get down.--Well, monsieur, do you propose to leave me here?" Monin was not quick to rise, and he was looking for his cap, which the swing had knocked off, muttering: "I am at your service in a minute, madame. You see, if I should go home without my cap, my wife would make a row." Really vexed, Athalie turned her head and saw Monin trying to climb a tree to reach his cap, which the swing had sent flying to a high branch. The young woman laughed heartily, then jumped down from the swing and walked away, seeking Auguste and Madame Destival in every thicket. After scouring the garden to no purpose, she returned to the place where she had left Monin; he was still at the foot of the tree, which he had tried vainly to climb, gazing despairingly at his cap, lodged on a branch, which he could not reach, and seeking in his snuff-box some inspiration as to the means of recovering it. "Which way did they go, monsieur?" asked Athalie, stopping beside him. He looked stupidly about and said: "Who, madame?" "Monsieur Dalville and Madame Destival." "I can't tell you--unless they've gone to drill too." Athalie went toward the house. Destival was still with Bertrand on the terrace. The young woman entered the salon; it was empty. "This is very polite," said Athalie; "a perfect gentleman that! It seems that there is no standing on ceremony here. I would like right well to know if Monsieur Dalville is with Madame Destival. She had a sick-headache; I am curious to know how she gets rid of it." The young woman left the salon and passed through several rooms without meeting anybody, for Julie and Baptiste were busy in the kitchen, and Monsieur de la Thomassinière's three servants had gone to the village to play goose. She went up to the first floor, where Madame Destival's bedroom was; but the door was closed and locked. "She is in her room," thought the petite-maîtresse; and she knocked gently. There was no reply; she knocked louder. At last Madame Destival asked who was there. "I, my dear," Athalie replied. "I came up to have a chat with you." "Excuse me, I had dropped asleep; my headache is so much worse----" "I have one too, and I will lie down in your room a moment; it will do me good." "Hasn't Julie shown you your room?" "No, my love; let me in, pray." Madame de la Thomassinière was determined not to go away, and after some little time she was admitted. Madame Destival appeared with her clothes no more disarranged than was natural in a person who had been lying down. As she went in, Athalie glanced about the room, and her eyes longed to pierce the walls of a small closet at the foot of the bed, the mirrored door of which was tightly closed.