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you, Adrien. I want your advice. I think, somehow, you are the person who can help me.”
    “Heavens!” thought Adrien. “Confidences about the handsome Pierre, no doubt. I’m becoming a sort of sympathetic maiden aunt.”
    She said briskly, “I can’t stop now, dear. I must go and see how Gillian is, and get her ready for the doctor’s visit.”
    “Oh, I know,” said Blanche. “I didn’t mean now, But later. Please, Adrien. I know it’s a bore for you, but I’m going to burst if I can’t talk to someone.”
    “We can’t have that,” said Adrien, laughing. “What about this afternoon, while Gillian is taking her siesta?”
    “That’ll do fine,” Blanche agreed, her face brightening.
    “Well, this afternoon, then,” said Adrien, and ran lightly up the stairs to her patient.
    Gillian welcomed her with a smile. She looked better today and less haggard. The doctor’s words had evidently already had an excellent psychological effect upon her. Her sense of hopelessness was gone.
    Adrien realized that for months Gillian had at best been encouraged to hope only that she might become a little stronger. The greatest hope any doctor had been able to give her was for the life of an invalid.
    “What a wonderful thing it would be to be well again,” said Gillian, leaning back on her pillows, and watching the sunlight dance through the open shutters across the lemon-colored ceiling of her bedroom. She added, with cheerful impatience, “I wish Dr. Dubois’s treatment was starting today.”
    “But it is starting today,” Adrien assured her. “This diet, this medicine, is all to build you up for it. So it’s all part of the treatment, really.”
    “Oh, I know that,” said Gillian, “but I want the real thing, Adrien. I’m tired of waiting. However—give me the medicine. And a lump of sugar after it, please! It may be childish, but I don’t see why I should lie for hours with a horrible taste in my mouth. I hear you’re going to Madame de Neuf s this evening?”
    Adrien was surprised at the sudden change of subject.
    “I’m not sure ... ” she began.
    “Oh, why not? You must go, Adrien. You’ll enjoy it. Denise is great fun.”
    “Well, I don’t know her, after all,” Adrien protested. “I think I'd rather stay here, with you.”
    “Oh, so you want to keep me in order. That’s it, is it? Nothing doing, Nurse. Nicky will stay with me. Please go, Adrien. I know you’ll have a good time. And if Dr. Dubois’s treatment is as drastic as he implies, Nicky and I may not have many more of these evenings to ourselves, may we?”
    What could Adrien say? There was no reply.
    In the afternoon, a sleepiness prevailed in Val d’Argent. The shops were closed till four-thirty. The children were at school.
    Having seen that Gillian had fallen asleep, Adrien took a book and went into the garden, hoping that Blanche had forgotten their rendezvous, and that she would get a quiet half hour under the lilac tree.
    But she had hardly settled herself comfortably when Blanche appeared, and flopped down on the grass beside her. Adrien noticed that she had changed into a rather pretty flowered dress, and had fastened back her wild hair. She took off her sandals, stretched out her long brown legs and waggled her toes in the sunshine.
    “Adrien, you will let me talk to you, won’t you? Now?”
    “Very well,” Adrien agreed resignedly. “It’s about Pierre, I suppose?”
    “Well, yes and no. In a way it is, I suppose, but not chiefly.”
    “Oh?” Adrien began to be curious. “What is it about, then?” “Oh, Adrien, I’m so sick of being here! I want you to talk to Nick for me. I know you have great influence with him. And I can’t worry Gillian, can I? So you’re my only hope.”
    Adrien knitted her brows.
    “What do you want me to say?”
    “I want to go to London. To the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. I want to be a great actress. I’ve got it in me, Adrien. I have, I know I have!”
    Adrien tried not