Adrienne

"The vividly human and moving story of Rowena and her wonderful power of influence in the lives of others will do every one good to read. Charmingly told in Amy Le Feuvre's best manner."—Northants Evening Telegraph.

"A romance of a most pleasant and captivating character."—Ladies' Field.

A GIRL AND HER WAYS

"Miss Le Feuvre writes with much charm and insight of the escapades of a modern girl who is fortunately possessed of the right spirit that enables her to overcome her difficulties."—The Record.

"Likely to become a popular book."—Methodist Recorder.

JOCK'S INHERITANCE

"Miss Le Feuvre has never written anything more beautiful or more amusing. The tone is as usual, excellent, and the story cannot fail to interest one and all."—Church of England Newspaper.

NOEL'S CHRISTMAS TREE

"Miss Le Feuvre has a classic style, and seems to be able to pierce straight into the heart of human beings. It is a humane book, written by a brilliant novelist."—Cornish Echo.

ADRIENNE

BY

AMY LE FEUVRE

WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED

LONDON AND MELBOURNE

1928

Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner Ltd., Frome and London

CONTENTS

CHAP.

I. A LETTER

II. AN ACCIDENT

III. GODFREY SPEAKS

IV. THE COUNT'S ARRIVAL

V. AT THE CHÂTEAU

VI. HER AUNT'S CONFIDENCES

VII. THE LOSS OF AN HEIRLOOM

VIII. LITTLE AGATHA

IX. A CONTEST OF WILLS

X. A MORNING RIDE

XI. A SUMMONS

XII. AT HOME AGAIN

XIII. WHY THE COUNT WENT AWAY

XIV. THE NOTARY'S DEFEAT

XV. ILLNESS AT THE CHÂTEAU

XVI. LOVERS

XVII. WED

XVIII. HUSBAND AND WIFE

XIX. ALAIN'S TUTOR

XX. AGATHA'S WARNING

ADRIENNE

CHAPTER I

A LETTER

SHE stood at the dining-room window looking out upon a snowy world. The cypresses and firs at the end of the lawn were bowed down with their weight of purity. There was great light, great stillness in the atmosphere. And there was majestic grandeur in the groups of snow-laden trees, and in the white hills that held tiny villages in their folds.

The girl's eyes were dreamy, and a trifle wistful. Her dark curly hair was unfashionably twisted up into a thick knot at the back of her small, well-shaped head. She had straight determined features, and a slim dainty figure. Her dark wine-coloured jumper and skirt suited her.

As she stood there, one hand tightly clenched a letter; and no one who saw her still attitude could have imagined what a tumult was sweeping over her soul. Behind her was the breakfast table. The silver tea-kettle was boiling on its stand. A packet of letters lay on the corner of the table. There was a fragrant scent of bacon and kidneys from a chafing dish. A bright-eyed Cairn terrier stood near the blazing fire, occasionally giving quick glances at his mistress, but rejoicing too much in the warmth and comfort of his position to join her at the window.

And then the door suddenly burst open and in came a short square elderly man, with a slight grey moustache and a tanned weather-beaten face. He looked the essence of fussy energy, and of health.

He snapped his fingers at the terrier, and spoke to the girl:

"What ho, Adrienne! How's yourself? No hunting for me! If I weren't such a busy man, I should be hipped by such an outlook. Drake has been telling me the stable pipes have burst. I must go and have a look at them after breakfast. Now where on earth did I put that new-fangled stuff for mending pipes, and grates, and holes of every description? Didn't I give it to you to keep safely in your store cupboard?"