“But where will this love lead you?” said the baroness.  “Ah, my child, how dangerous are women with noble sentiments!  There is less to fear in those who are bad!  Marry Charlotte de Kergarouet and release two-thirds of the estate.  By selling a few farms, Mademoiselle de Pen-Hoel can bestow that grand result upon you in the marriage contract, and she will also help you, with her experience, to make the most of your property.  You will be able to leave your children a great name, and a fine estate.”

“Forget Beatrix!” said Calyste, in a muffled voice, with his eyes on the ground.

He left the baroness, and went up to his own room to write an answer to the marquise.

Madame du Guenic, whose heart retained every word of Madame de Rochefide’s letter, felt the need of some help in comprehending it more clearly, and also the grounds of Calyste’s hope.  At this hour the Chevalier du Halga was always to be seen taking his dog for a walk on the mall.  The baroness, certain of finding him there, put on her bonnet and shawl and went out.

The sight of the Baronne du Guenic walking in Guerande elsewhere than to church, or on the two pretty roads selected as promenades on fete days, accompanied by the baron and Mademoiselle de Pen-Hoel, was an event so remarkable that two hours later, throughout the whole town, people accosted each other with the remark,—­

“Madame du Guenic went out to-day; did you meet her?”

As soon as this amazing news reached the ears of Mademoiselle de Pen-Hoel, she said to her niece,—­

“Something very extraordinary is happening at the du Guenics.”

“Calyste is madly in love with that beautiful Marquise de Rochefide,” said Charlotte.  “I ought to leave Guerande and return to Nantes.”

The Chevalier du Halga, much surprised at being sought by the baroness, released the chain of his little dog, aware that he could not divide himself between the two interests.

“Chevalier,” began the baroness, “you used to practise gallantry?”

Here the Chevalier du Halga straightened himself up with an air that was not a little vain.  Madame du Guenic, without naming her son or the marquise, repeated, as nearly as possible, the love-letter, and asked the chevalier to explain to her the meaning of such an answer.  Du Halga snuffed the air and stroked his chin; he listened attentively; he made grimaces; and finally, he looked fixedly at the baroness with a knowing air, as he said,—­

“When thoroughbred horses want to leap a barrier, they go up to reconnoitre it, and smell it over.  Calyste is a lucky dog!”

“Oh, hush!” she cried.