At Dinan, Kitty was seized with a severe attack of industry. She painted the clock-tower, and the market, and the old steep smelly streets, the walls, and the Rance, and every picturesque thing that came before her. Her mother laughed at her, but in her heart fancied the girl was trying to shut out intrusive thoughts, and felt the more glad that she had taken her away from London. It was early in the season for the rush of travellers, but Dinan carries on small social distractions throughout the year, and they knew one family, half English and half French, who lived in a charming old black and white chateau, with avenues and a stone dovecot, and a walled garden with a gateway to which you ascended by steps, and where it was not difficult to believe that you were in another world. Kitty would have been well content to have stayed here for the rest of their time, but Mrs Lascelles was not going to be defrauded of her holiday. She had planned a very comprehensive ten-days' round, having been carefully drawn on to this by Mrs Marchmont. They were to go to Vannes and Auray, see Carnac, take Quimper and Morlaix, and any other tempting places that lay _en route_, and return to Dinan and Saint Malo, going home by the Channel Islands. She wrote to Mary Marchmont that after all the trouble she had taken in finding out the most interesting places and the best inns, she could not venture to diverge a mile from the lines laid down. Mrs Marchmont showed the letter to Bell, almost crying. "Isn't it too provoking!" she exclaimed. "If only that stupid Charlie had been half so conscientious!" Quite unconscious, meanwhile, that they were provoking their friends at home by the implicit obedience with which they had kept within the lines ruled for them by these kindly despots, Kitty and her mother went on their cheerful way by slow and dawdling trains, leaving behind them pretty Dinan, with its river and its rich and fertile country, exploring Vannes, sitting down to sketch in the centre of uneven streets, where some little bit--some rich colouring on the stone, some dark cavern of a doorway, framing a white-capped group, some delicate wreath of greenery flinging itself out joyously to meet the sun--attracted Kitty. The people came round to watch and to suggest themselves as pictures; they were all on the most friendly yet independent terms with the girl, who smiled and nodded at them and sketched bravely on, undismayed by her increasing crowd of admirers. Auray did not offer so much of the picturesque; but Mrs Lascelles would not let Kitty escape her duties, so she carried her off to Carnac.