I stood still. I seemed to stiffen. My heart gave a mad throb of
hope, then seemed to stop. What did she mean? I faced her fully
once more, and, I doubt not, I was very pale. Yet lest vanity
should befool me, I dared not act upon suspicions. And so "True,
mademoiselle," said I. "You will be lonely. I regret it."

As silence followed, I turned again to the door, and my hopes sank
with each step in that direction.

"Monsieur!"

Her voice arrested me upon the very threshold.

"What shall a poor girl do with this great estate upon her hands?
It will go to ruin without a man to govern it."

"You must not attempt the task. You must employ an intendant."

I caught something that sounded oddly like a sob. Could it be?
Dieu! could it be, after all? Yet I would not presume. I half
turned again, but her voice detained me. It came petulantly now.

"Monsieur de Bardelys, you have kept your promise nobly. Will you
ask no payment?"

"No, mademoiselle," I answered very softly; "I can take no payment."

Her eyes were lifted for a second. Their blue depths seemed dim.
Then they fell again.