Upon leaving the châlet they continued their tour through the grounds. Already the Advocate felt the beneficial effects of a healthy change. His eyes were clearer, his back straighter, he moved with a brisker step. Mother Denise walked in front, pointing out this and that, Martin hobbled behind, and Dionetta, encouraged thereto, walked by her new mistress's side.
"Dionetta," said the Advocate's wife, "do you know that you have the prettiest name in the world?"
"Have I, my lady? I have never thought of it, but it is, if you say so."
"But perhaps," said the Advocate's wife, with a glance at the girl's bright face, "a man would not think of your name when he looked at you."
"I am sure I cannot say, my lady; he would not think of me at all."
"You little simpleton! I wish I had such a name; they ought to wait till we grow up, so that we might choose our own names. I should not have chosen Adelaide for myself."
"Is that your name, my lady?"
"Yes--they could not have given me an uglier."
"Nay," said Dionetta, raising her eyes in mute appeal for forgiveness for the contradiction, "it is very sweet."
"Repeat it, then. Adelaide."