"Do not trouble yourself about what happened yesterday. Sufficient for the day is the--you know--headache thereof, as our friend Marcel would say." "Oh, papa, it is nothing to joke about and make fun of" replied Céleste pouting. "I am not joking, my child, I assure you I have not been so deadly serious since my last evening at one of the English comic theatres. Now, Riche, I have something important to write, so I will leave this child in your care till dinner; just see that she gets some of those silly ideas about Renée out of her head." So saying he leaned over and gently kissed his daughter on the forehead, and smilingly excusing himself, walked off to the library. As soon as her father had left, Céleste feeling that she had been treated as if she were still a child, turned to her companion. "Now, Dr. Riche, you can see for yourself that papa will not tell me anything, and is only trifling with me. I want your confidence. I am sure that there is some trouble brewing for Renée. Is not that your opinion?" "I must confess that it is, mademoiselle, now that you ask me in confidence, but I have no evidence, nothing definite to go on." "But what can have upset Renée so much as to make her cry like that?" "What time was it when you found her crying?" asked Riche. "About half-past five in the afternoon." "Do you know if anyone called to see her before that hour?" "Yes, her father called. I remember her maid saying that M. Payot had been to see her and had stayed quite a long time." "Oh! Oh!" exclaimed Riche as a sudden thought flashed through his mind. "Now we are getting at facts. I wonder whether Renée's strange conduct had anything to do with his coming? But no, I confess that for the moment I cannot see any connection. Still, who knows?" "Oh, please, doctor, do keep an eye on Pierre. I do not really know why I ask this, but I feel sure that he means mischief." "I can't help thinking that you may be right after all. Let us be allies in ferreting out this mystery. Will you help me, Mademoiselle Céleste? Only mind, you must be very discreet." "Can I depend on you?" asked Céleste, looking up eagerly into his face. "Like my own soul, mademoiselle," answered Riche solemnly. "We will both keep a watch on Pierre Duval, and on M. Payot as well." "Oh, thank you, thank you ever so much. It will be just lovely if we can work together. I will do everything you ask me." After this compact Céleste felt more at ease than she had done for some time previously, for she knew that Riche was a strong man who went to work and did everything calmly, and would not allow himself to be hurried or put out in the least, and that he would carry out religiously whatever he undertook. The doctor smiled at her impetuosity, and kissing her hand put his fingers to his lips with a wink. "Allies and silence," said Riche. "That is agreed," replied Céleste as she walked quietly away towards the drawing-room to join the others.