and together they watched the earthworks rising
outside, and he agreed with her as to the necessity of being modern in
everything, of marching with one's time, regretting nothing, using the
present and making the best of it. She was utterly materialist and
baldly practical. Her manners were frank and simple, she had suffered,
she had studied the world and knew it, and used it without a scruple for
her own advantage. The time and the court of Napoleon knew such women
well: they had the fearless dignity of high rank, holding their own, in
spite of all the Emperor's vulgarity; and the losses and struggles of
their lives had given them a hard eye for the main chance, scarcely to
be matched by any _bourgeois_ shopkeeper. And with all this they had a
real admiration for military glory. Success, in fact, was their God and
their King.

Far down below in the park, within sight of the windows, Monsieur de
Sainfoy was strolling about, watching the workmen, and talking to them
with the pleasant grace which always made him popular. With him was
young Angelot, who had walked across with his father on that and several
other mornings. It seemed as if Uncle Joseph and Les Chouettes had lost
a little of their attraction, since Lancilly was inhabited. Angelot
brought his gun, and Cousin Herve, when he had time and energy, took
his, and they had an hour or two's sport round about the woods and
marshes and meadows of Lancilly. Once or twice Monsieur de Sainfoy
brought the young man in to breakfast; his father was often there, in
attendance on the Comtesse and her alterations. She took very little
notice of Angelot, beyond a smile when he kissed her hand. He was of no
particular use, and did not interest her; she was not fond of his
mother, and thought him like her; it was not worth while to be kind to
him for the sake of his father, whose devotion did not depend, she knew,
on any such attentions.

Angelot was rather awed by her coldness, though he said nothing about
it, even to his mother. And after all, he did not go to Lancilly to be
entertained by Madame de Sainfoy. He went for the sake of a look, a
possible word, or even a distant sight of the girl whose lovely face and
sad eyes troubled him sleeping and waking, whose presence drew him with
strong cords across the valley and made the smallest excuse a good
reason for following his father to Lancilly. But he never spoke to
Helene, except formally and in public, till that day when he lin