Gilberte was so lovely with her eyes still moist with tears and her rippling, childish laugh, that he was dazzled as it were, and ceased to wonder whether it was honest Antoine, the lovely ruins or the fair Gilberte that he had been in such haste to see once more. "Well, well," said Janille, "you almost frightened us; but you are welcome, Monsieur Emile, as our master says; Monsieur Antoine will return before long. Meanwhile you must have something cool to drink. I will go to the cellar and draw some wine." Emile remonstrated, and said, holding her back by the sleeve: "If you go to the cellar, I will go with you; not to drink your wine, but to see the cellar itself, which you said is so interesting, so dark and deep." "You mustn't go now," said Janille; "it's too cold there and you are too warm. Yes, you are warm! you're as red as a strawberry. You go and rest a bit, and then, while we are waiting for Monsieur Antoine, we'll show you the cellars, the underground vaults and the whole château, which you haven't examined very thoroughly yet, although it's well worth while. Ah! there are people who come a long way to see it; it's a little bit tiresome to us, and my girl goes to her room and reads while they are here; but Monsieur Antoine says that we can't refuse to admit them, especially travellers who have come a long way, and that, when you're the owner of a curious and interesting piece of property, you haven't any right to prevent other people from enjoying it." Janille attributed to her master the argument she had put into his mind and his mouth. The fact is that she collected a considerable amount from exhibiting the ruins, which she employed, like everything belonging to her, in secretly adding to the comfort of the family. Emile, eagerly accepting whatever they chose to offer him, consented to take a glass of water, and as Janille ran to fill her pitcher at the fountain, he was left alone with Mademoiselle de Châteaubrun. XV THE STAIRCASE While a practised rake may congratulate himself upon the unhoped-for accident which procures him a tête-à-tête with the object of his pursuit, a pure-hearted young man, who is sincerely in love, is more likely to be confused, almost terrified, when such good fortune comes to him for the first time. So it was with Emile Cardonnet: the respect that Mademoiselle de Châteaubrun inspired was so profound that he feared to raise his eyes to hers at that moment, lest he should show himself in any degree unworthy of the confidence reposed in him.