"And right you are, sir, right you are," said Hannah, who came into the room at that moment. "The missus wouldn't touch a brass farthing for the kiddy when she gets over the kind of shock of seeing that fine man her brother. I'll manage her, master dear, you needn't trouble your head."
It so happened that Hannah had her way. She did manage Mrs. Mansfield and, what was more, she got everything in order for her master and Fergus Desmond to start for their expedition to Arles, not that night but on the following morning. How neither of these good gentlemen knew a word of the French tongue, but they did discover by the aid of atlases, etc., the direction in which Arles was situated and they started off on their quest for little Margot's French relations at an early hour the next day.
They arrived at Arles on the following evening and, after making enquiries by means of one of Cook's interpreters, they discovered the Château St. Juste. Arles is a lively and busy place and more than one person watched the singular pair as they passed down an avenue of plane-trees and by-and-bye came to some heavy iron gates, which the said interpreter informed them opened on to the avenue, and eventually led to the Château St. Juste. The interpreter then felt that he had done his duty.
Fergus paid him twenty francs and a sprightly little woman, quite young and very lively, came out of a small and daintily furnished lodge to greet them.
"Ah, but you are Anglais," she said, "it goes without saying. I will take you down to the château if messieurs so desire. Monsieur _mon mari_ is ill, but it matters not--he can talk the English--ah, _charmant_! He has fallen ill of the accursed _grippe_, but I nurse him well and he will soon be restored. Come, then, my good messieurs, come for yourselves and see le Comte St. Juste. I am his wife, it goes without saying. He is old and I am young, that also goes without saying. Follow me, messieurs, you will be rewarded when you see all that I have done for the castle. It was in ruins--ah! but I had my _dot, chers_ messieurs. I made my money by means of the _chapeaux_ and the _très chic_ garments for the different _fêtes_ which abound at Arles. Ah, but I made my pile--my pile, and the Comte he worships me, and I myself am _la Comtesse_. Think you not it was well done, and think you I am ashamed of how I made my _dot_? Ah, _mais non, mais non_! The beautiful hats are made for the beautiful youth, the beautiful robes, _très distinguées très comme il faut_, are also made for the young and lovely, but see! I get my price, the true price--one hundred and fifty francs for one little _chapeau_, one thousand francs for a robe which might be distinguished in any part of Paris. Ah, think not of it any more. It is over. I am Madame la Comtesse and Monsieur is le Comte and I put the place--ah, into its bridal dress. See! behold! Not a weed, not an entanglement--all of the most spotless. Think what the place was! One raises the eyebrow at the thought, and behold it now! Monsieur the Comte, he is that eaten up with _joie_ that he can scarcely contain himself. Ah, messieurs, have I not done well?"