most fainting, made no effort
to escape from the powerful grasp of the incensed milk-woman; she hung
her head, as though unable or unwilling to meet the gaze of friend or
foe. Clara, attributing her condition to the terror excited by so
alarming a scene, renewed her commands to the labourers, "Did you not
hear me desire that this mad woman might be instantly taken away from
the farm? However, unless she immediately ceases her rude and insolent
language, I can promise her, by way of punishment, she shall neither
have the situation my mother promised her nor ever be suffered to put
her foot on the premises again."

Not a person stirred to obey Clara's orders; on the contrary, one of the
boldest among the party exclaimed:

"Well, but, Miss Clara, if your friend there is only a common girl out
of the streets, and, as such, acquainted with the murderer of this poor
woman's husband, surely she ought to go before the mayor to give an
account of herself and her bad companions!"

"I tell you," repeated Clara, with indignant warmth, and addressing the
milk-woman, "you shall never enter this farm again unless you this very
instant, and before all these people, humbly beg pardon of Mlle. Marie
for all the wicked things you have been saying about her!"

"You turn me off the premises then, mademoiselle, do you?" retorted the
widow with bitterness. "Well, so be it. Come, my poor children, let us
put the things back in the cart, and go and seek our bread elsewhere.
God will take care of us. But, at least, when we go, we will take this
abandoned young woman with us. She shall be made to tell the mayor, if
she won't us, who it was that took away your dear father's life; for she
knows well enough--she who was the daily companion of the worst set of
ruffians who infest Paris. And you, miss," added she, looking spitefully
and insolently at Clara, "you should not, because you choose to make
friends with low girls out of the streets, and because you happen to be
rich, be quite so hard-hearted and unfeeling to poor creatures like
me!"

"No more she ought," exclaimed one of the labourers; "the poor woman is
right!"

"Of course she is,--she is only standing up for her own!"

"Poor thing, she has no one now to do so for her! Why, they have
murdered her husband among them! I should think that might content them,
without trampling the poor woman under foot."

"One comfort is, nobody can stop her from doing all in her power to
bring the mu