"Then I remind myself I have no one there--a few friends, yes,
acquaintances; but no family ties, no one dear to me."

"But--pardon--you stay here?"

"It is beautiful here, monsieur."

"But such solitude, such isolation--for you, madame!"

"I know. Still, I am fond of the life here; it was here I found myself
again, after my grief. And I am fond of my adopted mother and Louise,
too, and they of me. Indeed, I am all they have left. Louise, of
course, will marry before long, Georges"--she used d'Aubrac's given
name--"will take her away, then Madame de Sévénié will have nobody but
me. And at her age, it would be too sad..."

Across the drawing-room that lady looked up from her cards and sharply
interrogated a manservant who had silently presented himself to her
attention.

"What is it you want, Jean?"

The servant mumbled his justification: An automobile had broken down on
the highroad near the château, the chauffeur was unable to move the car
or make any repairs in the storm, a gentleman had come to the door to
ask....

He moved aside, indicating the doorway to the entrance hall, beyond
which Mr. Phinuit was to be seen, standing with cap in hand, tiny
rivulets running from the folds of his motor-coat and forming pools on