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any more unchaperoned rides to the river, or anywhere else for that matter. I was not sure that my new acquaintance would have carried out his threat, but I did not wish to take any chance of having my freedom curtailed on account of one incident, however innocent. I concluded that it would be prudent to keep my promise.
    The next day, I felt no further hesitation and even began to look forward to that second meeting. The young man was certainly very plain, but his conversation had entertained me and I felt a thrill in meeting someone in secret.
    I returned to the Cère River on the appointed day. I chose not to stop by the cottage. Mamé Labro might have become suspicious to see me so soon again. I saw a large, dappled grey horse in the wood and tied Jewel close by. The young physician was waiting for me on the little pebble bank. He greeted me in French with great politeness, this time calling me “Mademoiselle” and addressing me formally.
    “Thank you for coming back here,” he said. “I dared not hope that you would join me today. I must also admit that I am ashamed of the threat I used. You realized of course that, no matter what, I would never have been so wicked as to tell anyone about our last meeting.”
    “No indeed. How could I? I do not know you at all.”
    “I had entertained the hope that perhaps you would come back for the pleasure of my company, but I was apparently too presumptuous.”
    “I did not find your company very agreeable the other day. You were insolent, but not so much as to preclude the possibility of improvement.”
    “Thank you, both for your candor and for this chance you are giving me to redeem myself. I will try to make a better impression this time.”
    We walked along the river and shared our memories of it. He spoke about his own childhood. Like me, he had lost his father at an early age. His eldest brothers, Jean-Baptiste, the lawyer, and Pierre, the physician, of whom he spoke fondly, had replaced his late parent in every respect. Pierre-André had been away at school, first in Clermont, then in Paris, since the age of eleven. His mother had died the year before of a bilious fever.
    “Pierre attended her till her last moment,” said Pierre-André. “Unfortunately the progress of her illness was very rapid. I was away in Paris and could only return to Vic in time to see her in her coffin. It grieved me not to be able to say good-bye to her, though I know she forgave me. I was her favourite son.”
    He gazed into the distance. I remained silent.
    “Since completing my medical studies,” he continued, “I have joined Pierre’s practice. He attends to his patients in town while I call upon those in the countryside. It entails riding long distances in all weathers, but I do not mind it. On the contrary, there is nothing I like better than the country around Vic. When I was at school, I always came back here for Christmas and the summer holidays. Indeed I cannot think of a more beautiful place in the world.”
    “Neither can I. I was born in Lavigerie, but raised here, first by my nurse and then at the convent.”
    My hand brushed against the tall grass on the side of the lane.
    “I am happy to see that we share this opinion of Vic,” he said. “Although I prefer this town, I have thought of opening a surgery in Lavigerie, where there is no physician in residence. My late mother, like you, was born there.”
    “If you were to settle in Lavigerie, you could attend to my own mother. She would be delighted to have a physician at hand.”
    “My brother Pierre wishes to bring me along during his next visit to Fontfreyde.” He frowned. “I know the Marquis by sight only and never had the honour of meeting Her Ladyship. I suspect that I will not answer to her ideas of refinement. She will think that I am just good enough for townspeople and peasants.”
    “Why do you say this? She is fond of your brother and might like you as well. It is difficult to tell in advance whom she