reckoning he had said enough for the moment.
Left to herself, Blandine commenced again to weep. Without thinking of evil, whatever she might do to reason herself out of it, she was troubled at the perpetual companionship of the Count and his favourite. In vain she argued with herself and endeavoured to rejoice at the change in Kehlmark, his activity, his joy in life: she regretted that this moral cure was not her own work, but a miracle wrought by this youthful intruder.
"What now!" said Landrillon a few days later to the young woman, "he's all right, our governor is, Mam'zelle Blandine! Ah! they get on better and better, our artist chaps! Yesterday, they pecked at each other with their little beaks, how lik'st that!"
"Thou talk'st nonsense, Landrillon," she replied, laughing with an effort. "Once more, I tell you, the Count is attached to this little peasant because he does credit to his lessons. Where is the harm? I have already told thee he loves this young Govaertz like a younger brother, as an intelligent pupil whose mind he has opened and cultivated."
