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velvet waistcoat. His coat and hat were lying on the pebble bank next to my faded gown, moth-eaten stockings and worn-out shoes. His black hair was not powdered and tied like my brother’s, but fell straight on his shoulders. What was most noteworthy about the stranger, after his height, was the plainness of his face. The ridges of his jaw and eyebrows were more pronounced than in anyone I had seen before. His nose was long and curved, his skin swarthy, his cheekbones wide and prominent. I wondered how long he had been watching me and I felt colour rise into my cheeks. It was the first time I had seen an intruder in what I considered, now that Jacques shunned my company, my own private domain.
    I recovered from my surprise and asked sharply in the Roman language: “Who are you? And what are you doing here?”
    “Both pertinent questions, young lady, but I should be the one asking them. My eldest brother owns this land, and you are trespassing. Yet, as a token of my goodwill, I will tell you my name, which is Pierre-André Coffinhal. I came here to bathe in the river, as I like to do every fine day in the summer. However, since you have preceded me, it appears that I will have to forego this pleasure.”
    He did not look much older than twenty, but his voice was oddly deep for someone so young. He had responded in the Roman language, addressing me in the familiar thou . That seemed to indicate that he had taken me for a peasant girl, which suited me very well.
    “Are you related to Dr. Coffinhal?” I asked.
    “Pierre is one of my brothers, and also my godfather, hence the similarity in our names. In fact, I too am Dr. Coffinhal, for I just completed my medical studies.”
    I knew the other Dr. Coffinhal well. He lived in Vic, where he was the town physician. My mother fancied herself the prey of various ailments and often had him called to Fontfreyde. He knew how to listen to her. She had the highest opinion of him. He was soft-spoken and handsome, quite different from this brother and godson of his. Another Coffinhal, Jean-Baptiste, the eldest, was an attorney in Vic and handled legal matters for my family. I had seen him before in Fontfreyde and in town, although we could not have met as equals. I knew of still another brother, Joseph Coffinhal, who was a barrister in Paris and whom I had never met.
    I now remembered Joséphine mentioning that the youngest son of the family had returned to the high country and was now helping his brother in his medical practice. I did not think it a good idea to tell this new Dr. Coffinhal my real name. My family would not be pleased to learn that a man of lower rank had seen me half-dressed in the river. I vowed to avoid either of the Coffinhals whenever they came to Fontfreyde.
    “Please accept my apologies for my intrusion, Doctor,” I said. “I will leave the river to your sole enjoyment.”
    “I was only teasing you. Your presence does not bother me, quite the contrary in fact. You have not told me your name.”
    The first that came to mind was Gabrielle Labro.
    “Are you related to the Labros who live nearby?” he asked.
    “I am their daughter. Really, I must go. I was ready to leave when I saw you.”
    “I know of your family. They are tenants of my brother, and very good people, from what I hear.”
    He looked down with some curiosity at my clothes, which were lying at his feet. Mortified, I was impatient to leave. I waded towards the beach. The stranger walked to the edge of the water, offered me his hand to help me back to the bank and politely turned away while I dressed.
    “Stay for a moment,” he said when I was done. “Your mother can spare you for a bit longer.”
    We sat down a few feet from each other. He asked many questions about the Labros, which I had no trouble answering since I had known them since my infancy, and my life at the cottage. Lying so freely nevertheless made me uneasy. I wanted to put an end to our conversation.
    “My mother will become