"Not long," said Hébé, blushing and laughing.
They arrived in a very few minutes at the château, which was in exquisite order. Everything new and fresh and, according to Madame Derode, perfectly lovely, for she was the sort of woman who liked whiteness and spotlessness and everything in perfect present-day taste. Her own château was neat, but not to compare with this. She gave a quick sigh under her breath, but her nieces were too much occupied with their own affairs to observe it.
Now it so happened that always in the morning le Comte St. Juste took what he called his airing. He went out leaning on the arm of his garçon, a young man dressed in the ancient livery of the St. Justes. He leant heavily on the garçon's arm and went invariably in one direction, and that was first to examine the thriving rows of beehives and second the peaches, which were ripening to a lovely golden red on the high brick wall. The Comte St. Juste used to count the peaches and rejoice in their fragrance. He was a happy old man—very happy since he had married his Ninon. It mattered little to him if she had once kept a shop. She kept one no longer. He could not have married her if that was the case. They lived oh, so happily on the rich dot which she had brought with her. She was one in ten thousand, his pretty Ninon, so young, so gay, and of the taste the most perfect.
It therefore so happened that when the three ladies drove up in their automobile to the Château St. Juste, they only found Madame la Comtesse standing on the front steps and giving directions to one of her numerous gardeners.
Madame Derode got out of her car and, introduced herself and her nieces.
"Ah, but I am in ecstasies to know you, Madame," said the Comtesse, "but if you do indeed seek my Alphonse, you cannot see him now. He is at this present moment resting on his couch of down and must not be disturbed."
"I know him by appearance," said Lady Dorothy, "and he is not on his couch of down. He is in the garden yonder; behold, he is talking to a garçon! I go to tell him, to tell him the truth. I will not stand the sins of your little granddaughter, Madame la Comtesse. She serves in your magasin, and her rudeness is unthinkable. I go to report to M. le Comte the wicked ways of that ugly child."
"But—but—I entreat you to stop!" cried the anguished voice of the little Comtesse. "He knows nothing—nothing at all—oh, it will kill him, and he with the pride of all the St. Justes in his veins. He knows not of the établissement. Le petit bébé and I, we keep it from him as a secret the most profound. Do not be so cruel as to injure him, chère Mademoiselle! You go to the school of my friend, Madame le Fleury. I recognize your bijou charming face."
"I will have my revenge," said Dorothy. "I mind not at all the age of that stupid old man. I see him and I will go."
"Dorothy, don't—Dorothy, I command thee not to go," said Madame Derode, but Dorothy cared very little indeed for any such command. She had light and agile feet and before the unhappy little Comtesse could prevent her, had rushed into the garden where the peaches and the bees were, dropped a low curtsey to M. le Comte and then said in a hurried tone,