"Good-morning, dear aunt," cried the Colonel, giving the old lady a
hasty embrace. "I am bringing a young lady to put under your wing. I
have come to put my treasure in your keeping. My Julie is neither
jealous nor a coquette, she is as good as an angel. I hope that she
will not be spoiled here," he added, suddenly interrupting himself.

"Scapegrace!" returned the Marquise, with a satirical glance at her
nephew.

She did not wait for her niece to approach her, but with a certain
kindly graciousness went forward herself to kiss Julie, who stood
there thoughtfully, to all appearance more embarrassed than curious
concerning her new relation.

"So we are to make each other's acquaintance, are we, my love?" the
Marquise continued. "Do not be too much alarmed of me. I always try
not to be an old woman with young people."

On the way to the drawing-room, the Marquise ordered breakfast for her
guests in provincial fashion; but the Count checked his aunt's flow of
words by saying soberly that he could only remain in the house while
the horses were changing. On this the three hurried into the
drawing-room. The Colonel had barely time to tell the story of the
political and military events which had compelled him to ask his aunt
for a shelter for his young wife. While he talked on without
interruption, the older lady looked from her nephew to her niece, and
took the sadness in Julie's white face for grief at the enforced
separation. "Eh! eh!" her looks seemed to say, "these young things are
in love with each other."