d Rosalie, as she looked at this thin, faded, white-haired
woman, whom she had left young and beautiful; "but you must remember
it's twenty-four years since we have seen one another."

"Well, have you been happy?" asked Jeanne after a long pause.

"Oh, yes--yes, madame. I haven't had much to grumble at; I've been
happier than you--that's certain. The only thing that I've always
regretted is that I didn't stop here--" She broke off abruptly, finding
she had unthinkingly touched upon the very subject she wished to avoid.

"Well, you know, Rosalie, one cannot have everything one wants," replied
Jeanne gently; "and now you too are a widow, are you not?" Then her
voice trembled, as she went on, "Have you any--any other children?"

"No, madame."

"And what is your--your son? Are you satisfied with him?"

"Yes, madame; he's a good lad, and a hard-working one. He married about
six months ago, and he is going to have the farm now I have come back to
you."

"Then you will not leave me again?" murmured Jeanne.

"No fear, madame," answered Rosalie in a rough tone. "I've arranged all
about that."

And for some time nothing more was said.

Jeanne could not help comparing Rosalie's life with her own, but she had
become quite resigned to the cruelty and injustice of Fate, and she felt
no bitterness as she thought of the difference between her maid's
peaceful existence and her own.

"Was your husband kind to you?"

"Oh, yes, madame; he was a good, industrious fellow, and managed to put
by a good deal. He died of consumption."

Jeanne sat up in bed. "Tell me all about your life, and everything that
has happened to you," she said. "I feel as if it would do me good to
hear it."

Rosalie drew up a chair, sat down, and began to talk about herself, her
house, her friends, entering into all the little details in which
country people delight, laughing sometimes over things which made her
think of the happy times that were over, and gradually raising her voice
as she went on, like a woman accustomed to command, she wound up by
saying:

"Oh, I'm well off now; I needn't be afraid of anything. But I owe it
all to you," she added in a lower, faltering voice; "and now I've come
back I'm not going to take any wages. No! I won't! So, if you don't
choose to have me on those terms, I shall go away again."

"But you do not mean to serve me for nothing?" said Jeanne.

"Yes, I do, madame. Money! You give me money! Why, I've almost as mu