Adrienne by Amy Le Feuvre

SNOW was upon the old Château, obliterating all paths and flower beds, showing only a wide expanse of pure white around it. The afternoon was already drawing in, lights were twinkling in the village and in the windows of the Château. Inside, there were blazing wood fires everywhere. The passages and floors were like mirrors with much polishing, and Alain was improving the occasion by sliding up and down them.

There was a sense of bustle and expectancy in the house. But upstairs, Mathilde and two nurses were in the Countess's room. Only that morning when she had seemed so much better, and had received the news of the bride and bridegroom's return with such pleasure, a sudden seizure had occurred, and she now lay unconscious, breathing with more and more difficulty as time went on. The doctor had been in and out all day, and had tried to give her oxygen, but it only seemed to distress her, and he told her daughter that nothing could save her now. Mathilde heard the car arrive, and swiftly went downstairs.