"My good Leonard, why the deuce do you suppose it displeases me? I only
asked for information. And now who are the ladies?"

"Oh! Monsieur, they are quite respectable ladies; Madame de Tecle, and
her daughter, Mademoiselle Marie."

"So? And the husband of Madame, Monsieur de Tecle, never rides out with
them?"

"Heavens! no, Monsieur. He never rides with them." And the old steward
smiled a dry smile. "He has been among the dead men for a long time, as
Monsieur le Comte well knows."

"Granting that I know it, Monsieur Leonard, I wish it understood these
ladies are not to be interfered with. You comprehend?"

Leonard seemed pleased that he was not to be the bearer of any
disagreeable message; and Camors, suddenly conceiving that his stay
at Reuilly might be prolonged for some time, reentered the chateau and
examined the different rooms, arranging with the steward the best plan
of making the house habitable. The little town of I------, but two
leagues distant, afforded all the means, and M. Leonard proposed going
there at once to confer with the architect.

CHAPTER VII. ELISE DE TECLE

Meantime Camors directed his steps toward the residence of M. des
Rameures, of which he at last obtained correct information. He took the
same road as the preceding evening, passed the monastic-looking building
that held Madame de Tecle, glanced at the old oak that had served him
for an observatory, and about a mile farther on he discovered the small
house with towers that he sought.

It could only be compared to those imaginary edifices of which we have
all read in childhood's happy days in taking text, under an attractive
picture: "The castle of M. de Valmont was agreeably situated at the
summit of a pretty hill." It had a really picturesque surrounding of
fields sloping away, green as emerald, dotted here and there with great
bouquets of trees, or cut by walks adorned with huge roses or white
bridges thrown over rivulets. Cattle and sheep were resting here and
there, which might have figured at the Opera Comique, so shining were
the skins of the cows and so white the wool of the sheep. Camors swung
open the gate, took the first road he saw, and reached the top of the
hill amid trees and flowers. An old servant slept on a bench before the
door, smiling in his dreams.

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 sho