Camors waked him, inquired for the master of the house, and was ushered into a vestibule.  Thence he entered a charming apartment, where a young lady in a short skirt and round hat was arranging bouquets in Chinese vases.

She turned at the noise of the opening door, and Camors saw—­Madame de Tecle!

As he saluted her with an air of astonishment and doubt, she looked fixedly at him with her large eyes.  He spoke first, with more of hesitation than usual.

“Pardon me, Madame, but I inquired for Monsieur des Rameures.”

“He is at the farm, but will soon return.  Be kind enough to wait.”

She pointed to a chair, and seated herself, pushing away with her foot the branches that strewed the floor.

“But, Madame, in the absence of Monsieur des Rameures may I have the honor of speaking with his niece?”

The shadow of a smile flitted over Madame de Tecle’s brown but charming face.  “His niece?” she said:  “I am his niece.”

“You I Pardon me, Madame, but I thought—­they said—­I expected to find an elderly—­a—­person—­that is, a respectable” he hesitated, then added simply—­“and I find I am in error.”

Madame de Tecle seemed completely unmoved by this compliment.

“Will you be kind enough, Monsieur,” she said, “to let me know whom I have the honor of receiving?”

“I am Monsieur de Camors.”

“Ah!  Then I have excuses also to make.  It was probably you whom we saw this morning.  We have been very rude—­my daughter and I—­but we were ignorant of your arrival; and Reuilly has been so long deserted.”

“I sincerely hope, Madame, that your daughter and yourself will make no change in your rides.”

Madame de Tecle replied by a movement of the hand that implied certainly she appreciated the offer, and certainly she should not accept it.  Then there was a pause long enough to embarrass Camors, during which his eye fell upon the piano, and his lips almost formed the original remark—­“You are a musician, Madame.”  Suddenly recollecting his tree, however, he feared to betray himself by the allusion, and was silent.

“You come from Paris, Monsieur de Camors?” Madame de Tecle at length asked.

“No, Madame, I have been passing several weeks with my kinsman, General de Campvallon, who has also the honor, I believe, to be a friend of yours; and who has requested me to call upon you.”

“We are delighted that you have done so; and what an excellent man the General is!”

“Excellent indeed, Madame.”  There was another pause.

“If you do not object to a short walk in the sun,” said Madame de Tecle at length, “let us walk to meet my uncle.  We are almost sure to meet him.”  Camors bowed.  Madame de Tecle rose and rang the bell:  “Ask Mademoiselle Marie,” she said to the servant, “to be kind enough to put on her hat and join us.”

A moment after, Mademoiselle Marie entered, cast on the stranger the steady, frank look of an inquisitive child, bowed slightly to him, and they all left the room by a door opening on the lawn.