Again--" Thus his oracle, but Jean Jacques' voice suddenly died down, for, as he sat there, the face of a woman made a vivid call of recognition.

He slowly awakened from his self-hypnotism, to hear a woman speaking to him; to see two dark eyes looking at him from under heavy black brows with bright, intent friendliness.
"They said at the Manor you had come this way, so I thought I'd not have my drive for nothing, and here I am.

I wanted to say something to you, M'sieu' Jean Jacques." It was the widow of Palass Poucette.

She looked very fresh and friendly indeed, and she was the very acme of neatness.

If she was not handsome, she certainly had a true and sweet comeliness of her own, due to the deep rose-colour of her cheeks, the ivory whiteness round the lustrous brown eyes, the regular shining teeth which showed so much when she smiled, and the look half laughing, half sentimental which dominated all.
Before she had finished speaking Jean Jacques was on his feet with his hat off.