"Listen," said Mademoiselle Brun, holding up one steady, yellow finger;
but the silence was such as will make itself felt. "And the neighbours do
not call much," added mademoiselle, in completion of her own thoughts.

Denise laughed. She had been up early, for they were almost alone in the
Casa Perucca now. The servants who had obeyed Mattei Perucca in fear and
trembling, had refused to obey Denise, who, with much spirit, had
dismissed them one and all. An old man remained, who was generally
considered to be half-witted; and Maria Andrei, the widow of Pietro, who
was shot at Olmeta. Denise superintended the small farm.

"That cheery Maria," said Mademoiselle Brun, "she is our only resource,
and reminds me of a cheap funeral."

"There is the colonel," said Denise. "You forget him."

"Yes; there is the colonel, who is so kind to us."

And Mademoiselle Brun slowly contemplated the whole landscape, taking in
Denise, as it were, in passing.

"And there is our little friend," she added, "down in the valley there
who does not call."

"Why do you call him little?" asked Denise, looking down at the Chateau
de Vasselot. "He is not little."

"He is not so large as the colonel," explained mademoiselle.