of reach; she touched it with her outstretched finger-tips, dislodged it, it came tumbling down, and he caught it as it fell. And Hélène herself came close to falling. She teetered uncertainly on her unsteady balance, swayed towards him, and he lifted her down. For a moment her weight was strong and palpable in his arms. He put her down reluctantly, and for an instant or two she stood flat against him, her hands gently resting on his arms. Then, with a pleasant little laugh, she said:
“Oh, là, là! Qu’il est fort!”
They went out front again, the Countess finished trying on the hat, and presently, after another burst of gay and rapid talk, he and the old woman departed. As he went out, the little bell tinkled thinly and pleasantly again; he had to stoop to go through the door. He turned to say good-bye again, the two girls were looking towards him with gay and friendly smiles; he was sorry to go and wanted some excuse for staying. Hélène looked strong and competent and desirable, she smiled at him a friendly farewell: he thought if he came back again she would be glad to see him, but he never saw her after that.
Later the two girls stayed in his memory with a vivid, pleasant warmth: he thought of Hélène many times, her strong seductive figure and her wide, dark face, and he wondered what her life had been, if she had married, and what time had brought to her.
XCIV
The crowning extravagance of the Countess’s misrepresentation was revealed one morning when he found a letter addressed to him in a firm, feminine, and completely unfamiliar handwriting. The Countess had spoken to him several times of a great noblewoman in the neighbourhood, who lived in a magnificent château, and with whom, it was obvious, the Countess wished to improve her slight acquaintance. Now, upon opening the letter, the following message greeted his astounded eye:
Le Château de Mornaye,
February 23, 1925.
My dear Mr. Gant:
My old friend, La Comtesse de Caux, informs me that you are spending some time in Orléans preparing a series of articles for the great journal you represent, The New York Times.
It will be a great pleasure to me if you, together with La Comtesse, will give me the honour
