await their
arrival under my protection. That will be more fitting than running the
country with an old pastor, _hein_?'

'Madame, nothing shall induce me to quit him!' exclaimed Eustacie,
vehemently.

'Hear me out, child,' said the Duchess. 'He goes with us to assist my
chaplain; he is not much fitter for wandering than you, or less so. And
you, Madame, must, I fear me, still remain his daughter-in-law in my
household; or if you bore your own name and rank, this uncle and cousin
of yours might learn that you were still living; and did they claim
you---'

'Oh, Madame, rather let me be your meanest kitchen-girl!'

'To be--what do they call you?--Esperance Gardon will be quite enough.
I have various women here--widows, wives, daughters or sufferers for the
truth's sake, who either are glad of rest, or are trained up to lead a
godly life in the discipline of my household. Among them you can live
without suspicion, provided,' the old lady added, smiling, 'you can
abstain from turning the heads of our poor young candidates.'

'Madame,' said Eustacie, gravely, 'I shall never turn any one's head.
There was only one who was obliged to love me, and happily I am nor fair
enough to win any one else.'

'_Tenez_, child. Is this true simplicity? Did Gardon, truly, never tell
you of poor Samuel Mace?'

Eustacie's face expressed such genuine amazement and consternation, that
the Duchess could not help touching her on the cheek, and saying, 'Ah!
simple as a _pensionnaire_, as we used to say when no one else was
innocent. But it is true, my dear, that to poor Samuel we owe our
meeting. I will send him off, the poor fellow, at once to Bourge-le-Roy
to preach his three sermons; and when they had driven you a little out
of his head, he shall have Mariette there--a good girl, who will make
him an excellent wife. She is ugly enough, but it will be all the same
to him just then! I will see him, and let him know that I have reasons.
He lodges in your house, does he? Then you had better come to see me at
once. So will evil tongues best be silenced.

'But hold,' the Duchess said, smiling. 'You will think me a foolish old
woman, but is it true that you have saved the Pearls of Ribaumont, of
which good Canon Froissart tells?'

Eustacie lifted her child on her knee, untied the little gray frock, and
showed them fastened beneath, well out of sight. 'I thought my treasures
should guard one another,' she said. 'One I sent as a token to my