“What’s wrong?” I cried.

“Snails in Madame’s bed.”

I went back to my room and sat down thoughtfully. So this was Genevieve’s answer. She had taken the reprimand demurely enough, or so it had seemed while she planned her revenge. There would be trouble about this.

I went along to her room and knocked lightly on the door. There was no answer so I went in to find her lying on her back pretending to be asleep.

“It’s no use,” I said.

So she opened one eye and laughed at me.

“Did you hear the shouting, miss?”

“Everyone must have heard it.”

“Imagine her face when she saw them!”

“It’s not really very funny, Genevieve.”

“Poor miss. I’m always sorry for people who have no sense of humour.”

“And I’m sorry for people who play senseless pranks for which they alone will have to suffer. What do you think is going to be the outcome of this?”

“She is going to learn to mind her own affairs and not pry into mine.”

“It might not turn out as you think.”

“Oh, stop it! You’re as bad as she is. She is trying to stop my going to see Jean Pierre and the rest of them. She won’t, I tell you.”

“If your father forbids it…”

She stuck out her lower lip.

“Nobody is going to forbid me to see Jean Pierre … and the rest of them.”

“The way to deal with this is not to play schoolgirl tricks with snails.”

“Oh, isn’t it? Didn’t you hear her shout? I’ll bet she was terrified.

Just serve her right. “

“You don’t imagine that she will let this pass?”

“She can do what she likes. I’m going to do what I like.”

I could see that it was no use talking to her, so I left her. But I was growing alarmed; not only by her foolish behaviour, which I was sure would only result in her disadvantage, but by the fact of her growing obsession with Jean Pierre.

I was in the gallery next morning when Claude came in. She was dressed in a dark blue riding-habit and wore a blue bowler riding-hat. Beneath it her eyes were deep blue; I knew she was very angry and trying to hide this.

“There was a disgraceful scene last night,” she said.

“Perhaps you heard.”

“I heard something.”

“Genevieve’s manners are deplorable. It is not to be wondered at, considering the company she keeps.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“And I think. Mademoiselle Lawson, that you are in some ways to blame.

You will agree that it is since you came here that she has become so friendly with the wine growers

“That friendship has nothing to do with her bad manners. They were deplorable when I arrived.”

“I am convinced that your influence is not a good one, Mademoiselle Lawson, and for that reason I am asking you to leave.”

“To leave!”

“Yes, it’s by far the best way. I shall see that you are paid what is due to you and my husband may help you to find other work. But I don’t want any arguments. I should like you to be out of the chateau within two hours.”

“But this is absurd. I haven’t finished my work.”

“We will get someone to take it over.”

“You don’t understand. I use my own methods. I can’t leave this picture until it’s finished.”

“I am mistress here. Mademoiselle Lawson, and I am asking you to leave.”

How sure she was of herself! Had she reason to be? Had she so much influence with him? Had she but to ask favours for them to be granted?

She was clearry*’of that opinion. She had complete confidence that the Comte would deny her nothing.

Her lips curled.

“Very well. You shall receive your orders from him.”

I was conscious of a cold fear. There must be a strong reason for that absolute assurance. Perhaps she had already discussed me with the Comte. Perhaps she had already asked for my dismissal and he, being eager to indulge her, had granted this wish. I tried to hide my apprehension as I followed her to the library.

She threw open the door and cried: “Lothair!”

“Claude,” he said, ‘my dear? “

He had risen from his chair and was coming towards

us when he saw me. For half a second he was taken aback. Then he bowed his head in acknowledgement of my presence.

“Lothair,” she said, “I have told Mademoiselle Lawson that she cannot remain. She refused to take her dismissal from me, so I have brought her to you so that you can tell her.”

“Tell her?” he asked, looking from her angry face to my scornful one.

I was conscious in that moment how beautiful she was. Anger had put a deep flush in her cheeks which accentuated the blue of her eyes, the whiteness of her perfectly-shaped teeth.

“Genevieve put snails in my bed. It was horrible.”

“My God!” he murmured under his breath.

“What pleasure does she get from playing these foolish tricks?”

“She thinks it is very amusing. Her manners are appalling. What can be expected … did you know that her dearest friends are the Bastides?”

“I did not know,” said the Comte.

“Well, I can assure you it is so. She is constantly there. She tells me that she does not care for any of us here. We are not so pleasant, so amusing, so clever as her dear friend Jean Pierre Bastide. Yes, he is her dearest friend although she adores the whole family. The Bastides! You know what they are.”

“The best wine-growers in the district,” said the Comte.

“The girl scuttled into a hasty marriage only a short while ago.”

“Such scuttling is not such a rare occurrence in our district, Claude, I do assure you.”

“And this wonderful Jean Pierre. He’s a gay fellow so I’ve heard.

Are you going to allow your daughter to behave like a village girl who in a very short time will have to learn toer . scuttle out of an unfortunate position? “

“You are becoming too excited, Claude. Genevieve shall not be allowed to do anything unbecoming. But how does this concern Mademoiselle Lawson?”

“She has fostered this friendship; she accompanies Genevieve to the Bastides’. She is their great friend. That is all very well. It is because she has introduced Genevieve into their circle that I say she must go.”

“Go?” said the Comte.

“But she hasn’t finished the pictures. Moreover she has been talking to me about wall panels.”

She went close to him, lifting those wonderful blue eyes to his face.

“Lothair,” she said, ‘please listen to me. I am thinking of Genevieve.”

He looked beyond her at me.

“You do not say anything, Mademoiselle Lawson.”

“I shall be sorry to leave the pictures unfinished.”

“That is unthinkable.”

“You mean … you are on her side?” demanded Claude.

“I mean that I can’t see what good Mademoiselle Law-son’s going could bring to Genevieve, and I can see what harm it would bring to my pictures.”

She stood back from him. For a moment I thought she was going to strike him; instead she looked as though she were about to burst into tears, and turning walked out of the room.

“She is very angry with you,” I said.

“With me? I thought it was with you.”

“With both of us.”

“Genevieve has behaved badly again.”

“Yes, I fear so. It was because she was forbidden to go to the Bastides’.”

“And you have taken her there?”

“Yes.”

“You thought it wise?”

“At one time I thought it very wise. She misses the society of young people. A girl of her age should have friends. It is because she had none that she is so unpredictable . given to moods and tantrums, playing these tricks. “

“I see. And it was an idea of yours to give her this companionship ?”

“Yes. I have seen her very happy at the Bastides’.”

“And you also?”

“Yes. I have enjoyed their company very much.”

“Jean Pierre has a reputation for being … gallant.”

“Who has not? Gallantry is as common in this part of your country as the grape.” To be in his company made me reckless. I felt I had to discover what his feelings were towards me . and how they compared with what he felt for Claude. I said: “I’ve been thinking that perhaps it would be as well if I left. I could go in say … two weeks. I think I could finish the pictures I have started on by that time. That would satisfy Madame de la Talle, and as Genevieve could scarcely go riding alone to the Bastides’, this matter would be neatly settled.”

“One cannot run one’s life for the sake of neatness, Mademoiselle Lawson.”

I laughed, and he laughed with me.

“Now please,” he said, ‘no more talk of leaving us. “

“But Madame de la Talle …”

“Leave me to deal with her.”

He looked at me, and for one glorious moment it seemed as though the mask slipped from his face. He might have been telling me that he could no more bear to lose me than I could bear to go.

When next I saw Genevieve I noticed the sullen set of her lips.

She told me she hated everyone . the whole world. Chiefly she hated the woman who called herself Aunt Claude.

“She has forbidden me again to go to the Maison Bastide, miss. And

this time Papa was with her. He said I must not go there without permission from him. That means never … because he’ll never give it.”

“He might. If…”

“No. She has told him not to and he does what she tells him. It’s strange to think of him doing what anyone tells him … but he does what she says.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t always.”

“You don’t know, miss. Sometimes I think you don’t know much about anything but speaking English and being a governess.”

“Governesses at least have to know a good deal before they can teach.”

“Don’t try to change the subject, miss. I hate everybody in this house, I tell you. One day I’ll run away.”

A few days later I met Jean Pierre. I was riding alone, for Genevieve had avoided me since her outburst.

He came galloping up to me, his expression one of extreme pleasure as it always was when he saw me.

“Look at those grapes!” he cried.

“Did you ever see the like? We shall have wine this year worthy of bottling with the chateau label. If nothing goes wrong,” he added hastily as though placating some god who might be listening and punish him for arrogance.

“There’s only one other season I remember when they were as good.” His expression changed suddenly.

“But I might not be here to see this harvest.”

“What!”

“Hints, so far. But Monsieur Ie Comte is looking for a good man to send to the Mermoz vineyard, and I am a very good man, so I’m told.”

“Leave Gaillard! But how could you do that?”

“Simply by moving myself to Mermoz.”

“It’s impossible.”

“With God and the Comte all things are possible.” He was passionately angry suddenly.

“Oh, don’t you see, Dallas, we are of no importance to Monsieur Ie Comte. We are pawns to be moved this way and that all for the benefit of the games he plays.

He does not want me here, shall we say . well, then, I am moved across the chequer board to another place. I am a danger here . to Monsieur Ie Comte. “

“A danger? How could you be?”

“How can a humble pawn threaten to put the king in check? That is the subtlety of the game. We do not see how we disturb or threaten the peace of mind of the great. But if we do for a moment we are whisked far away. Do you understand?”

“He is very kind to Gabrielle. He settled her in St. Vallient with Jacques.”

“Oh, very kind …” murmured Jean Pierre.

“And why should he want you out of the way?”

“There could be several reasons. It may be because you and Genevieve had visited us.”

“Madame de la Talle wanted to dismiss me because of it. In fact she appealed to the Comte.” || “And he wouldn’t hear of it?”

“He wants his pictures restored.”

“Is that all, do you think? Dallas, be careful. He’s a dangerous man.”

“What do you mean?”

“Women are fascinated by danger, so they tell me. His wife, poor lady, was most unhappy. She was unwanted so she departed.”

“What are you trying to tell me, Jean Pierre?”

“To take care,” he said.

“To take great care.” He leaned towards me and taking my hand, kissed it.

“It is important".

Ten

 The atmosphere of the chateau had grown heavy with tension. Genevieve was sullen and I wondered what was going on in her mind. As for Claude, she was angry and humiliated because the Comte had refused to comply with her wishes and I sensed her brooding resentment against me. She read a significance in his championing of me-and so did I. Philippe was uneasy. He came to me when I was in the gallery almost shyly as though he did not want to be discovered there. I imagined that he was afraid of his wife as well as the Comte.