I shuddered; but Jack smiled, showing his white teeth almost merrily.  “You may see some fun,” he said, “but it shan’t be death to the frogs; not so bad as that.  And I shall have you to be kind to me.”

“Kind to you!” I echoed, rather tremulously. (If he only knew how kind I should like to be!) “Yes, I will be kind.  But I can’t do anything to make up for what you’ll have to bear.  You had better go.”

“Perhaps I would, if I could take you away with me, but that can’t be.  And, no, even in that case, I should prefer to stick it out.  I shouldn’t like to let that young bounder drive me from a place, whether I wanted to go or not.  And do you think I would clear out, and leave him to worry you?”

“He can’t,” I said.

“I wish I were sure of that.  When the beast sees you without your veil—­oh, hang it, you mustn’t let him come near you, you know.”

“He isn’t likely to take the slightest notice of his stepfather’s wife’s maid,” said I, “especially as he’s dying to marry the American heiress here.”

“Anyhow, be careful.”

“I shan’t look at him if I can help it.  And we shall be gone before long.  I believe the Turnours’ invitation, which their Bertie was bribed to ask for, is only for two or three days.  How you must have been feeling when you were told to drive here!  But you showed nothing.”

“I had a qualm or two when I was sure of the place; but then it was over.  It’s far worse for you than for me.  And I told you I’ve been learning from you a lesson of cheerfulness.  I was merely a Stoic before.”

“It’s nothing for me, comparatively,” I said, and by this time, I was quite sincere; but I didn’t know then what the next twenty-four hours were to bring.

We were not left alone for long, but in ten minutes we had had our talk out, while we played at eating the meal we had looked forward to with eagerness before our appetites were crowded into the background.  A fat sous chef flitted about; maids and valets glanced in; nevertheless, we found time for a heart-warming hand pressure before we parted for the night.  Altogether, I had not had more than fifteen minutes in the dining-room; yet when I left I felt a hundred times braver and more cheerful.

Already I had been to my mistress’s quarters.  The maid who took charge of me on my arrival showed me that room before she showed me mine, and explained the way from one to the other.  My “bump of locality” was tested, however, in getting back to her ladyship’s part of the house, for the castle has its intricacies.

The word “chateau,” in France, covers a multitude of comfortable, unpretentious family mansions, as I had not to find out now, for the first time; and the dwelling of the Roquemartines, though a fine old house of the seventeenth century, is no more imposing, under its high, slate roof, than many another.  It is Lady Turnour’s first experience, though, as a visitor in the “mansions of the great,” and when I had been briskly unpacking for half an hour or so, she came in, somewhat subdued by her new emotions.  I think that she was rather glad to see a familiar face, to have someone to talk to of whom she did not feel in awe, with whom she need not be afraid of making some mistake; and she seemed quite human to me, for the first time.