‘He shouldn’t have said anything about his lawyer.’

’You wait till you’re placed as he is, and you’ll find that you’ll say anything that comes uppermost.  But what are we to do with him, George?’

Then the matter was discussed in the utmost confidence, and in all its bearings.  George offered to have a carriage and pair of horses got ready for Remiremont, and then to tell the young man that he was expected to get into it, and go away; but Michel felt that there must be some more ceremonious treatment than that.  George then suggested that the Cure should give the message, but Michel again objected.  The message, he felt, must be given by himself.  The doing this would be very bitter to him, because it would be necessary that he should humble himself before the scented shiny head of the little man:  but Michel knew that it must be so.  Urmand had been undoubtedly ill-treated among them, and the apology for that ill-treatment must be made by the chief of the family himself.  ‘I suppose I might as well go to him alone,’ said Michel, groaning.

‘Well, yes; I should say so,’ replied his son.  ’Soonest begun, soonest over;—­and I suppose I might as well order the horses.’

To this latter suggestion the father made no reply, but went slowly into the house.  He turned for a moment into Marie’s little office, and stood there hesitating whether he would tell her his mission.  As she was to be made happy, why should she not know it?

‘You two have got the better of me among you,’ he said.

‘Which two, Uncle Michel?’

’Which two?  Why, you and George.  And what I’m to do with the gentleman upstairs, it passes me to think.  Thank heaven, it will be a great many years before Flos wants a husband.’  Flos was the little daughter up-stairs, who was as yet no more than five years old.

’I hope, Uncle Michel, you’ll never have anybody else as naughty and troublesome as I have been,’ said Marie, pressing close to him.  She was indescribably happy.  She was to be saved from the lover whom she did not want.  She was to have the lover whom she did want.  And, over and above all this, a spirit of kind feeling and full sympathy existed once more between her and her dear friend.  As she offered no advice in regard to the disposal of the gentleman up-stairs, Michel was obliged to go upon his painful duty, trusting to his own wit.

In the long room up-stairs he found Adrian Urmand sitting at the closed window, looking out at the ducks who were paddling in a temporary pool made by the late rains.  He had been painfully in want of something to do,—­so much so that he had more than once almost resolved to put his things into his bag, and leave the house without saying a word of farewell to any one.  Had there been any means for him to escape from Granpere without saying a word, he would have done so.  But at Granpere there was no railway, and the only public conveyance in and out of the place started from the door of the Lion d’Or; started every morning, with much ceremony, so that it was impossible for him to fly unobserved.  There he was, watching the ducks, when Michel entered the room, and very much disposed to quarrel with any one who approached him.