"There is something," said Madame de Moidrey under her breath.
"What, if you please?"
"I want you to like me, Philippa.... And if some day you could learn to love me, that would be the rarest gift that could be offered me."
The girl's grey eyes widened in utter surprise; suddenly they sparkled with tears, and she bent her head swiftly and touched the elder woman's hands with her own.
"Madame," she whispered, "you overwhelm me with your kindness.... If only I could express my gratitude——"
She checked herself as Maurice, the head gardener, appeared, hat in hand, deep anxiety stamped on his seamed and sunburnt features.
"Pardon, Madame la Comtesse—there is a great fire somewhere in the north. I thought Madame should be told——"
"A fire? What is it? The forest, Maurice?"
"Oh, it is very far away, Madame. Perhaps it is a forest on fire.... But there is a sound, too. One may see and hear from the northern terrace when the wind sets in."
"Is it as far away as Ausone?"