QUITE ALONE.

   BOOK THE FIRST: CHILDHOOD.
     CHAPTER XI. ENDS AN IDYLL.

THE Marouillais began to talk scandal about
J. B. Constant and his too precocious stable-girl
and chambermaid, for she now officiated
in both capacities, still preserving her ascendancy
as mistress of the horse, but having a lad
to assist her. The mayor warned the innkeeper
against the "whispering tongues that poison
truth." M. le Curé insisted that, for morality's
sake, the girl should be sent away.

"She is fit for something better than a fille
d'auberge," he represented.

"Granted, monsieur," returned Constant.
"But how is her condition to be bettered?"

"The good sisters at Avignon," hinted the
ecclesiastic.

Constant shook his head.

"The good sisters," he remarked, " would, I
much fear, be powerless in turning Valérie into a
Sister of Charity or a village schoolmistress,
and what more could they do with her? It is a
pity that she was not sent to them two years
ago. Then they might have had the credit of
her sudden conversion. For the rest, it is no
affair of mine. An innkeeper may have a servant-maid.
She is a capital servant, and her aunt is
there to watch over her."

It was the curate's turn to shake his head.
"Mon ami," he said, "that poor ignorant old
woman is a mere baby in the hands of that girl.
She can no longer be chastised. The time for
the cord and the thong is past."

"I should like to see any one attempting to
lay a hand on Valérie," exclaimed the innkeeper,
with a sudden start, and clenching his fists.
"Ma parole d'honneur! I would exterminate
him."

"There is no fear of such an eventuality," the
curé returned; "nor," he continued, in gentle
reproof, " is there any need for a fallible human
creature to speak of ' extermination'— a terrible
power, vested only in Omnipotence."

"I ask your pardon, M. le Curé."

"'Tis granted, my friend. But, nevertheless,
get rid of that young creature; if you don't,
malicious tongues will continue to wag, and evil
will follow."

Constant was privately of the priest's opinion,
but certain reasons, at which the intelligent
reader may have already hazarded a surmise,
rendered him reluctant to follow the friendly
advice of his pastor. He passed several days in
perplexity, anxiously revolving plans in his mind
for modifying the condition of his too handsome
servant, when Valérie brought the matter to
a solution by a voluntary suggestion that she
should be sent to school for a couple of years.

"I am tired of tending horses," she said.
"My hands are not yet quite spoiled; but six
months more of stable-work will make them as
hard as buffalo-skin. I am tired of being ignorant.
It is as much as I can do to read the big
painted letters under the four lilies on the
signboard.I can't write at all. I want to be able
to read the Gazette de France, and to play the
piano, and paint pictures, and write letters, and
be a lady."

"Vastly well, mademoiselle," replied Constant,
with subdued irony. " But who, pray, is to pay
for your education?"

"That is your affair, not mine. If you choose
to send me to school it will be better for you.
If you won't, I will get a livret from M. le
Maire, and seek a servant's place at Avignon.
My aunt will give me permission, and you must
give me a character."

The argument was unanswerable. Jean Baptiste
had prospered at the Lilies of France, and
could well afford the outlay. For the sum of a
thousand francs, a lady keeping a boarding-school
at Lyons consented to receive
Mademoiselle Valérie Sablon— for that was the real
name of her aunt— for twelve months, and to
instruct her in all the accomplishments. The girl
had refused point-blank to enter a conventual
school, and had selected Lyons in preference to
Avignon, because, she said, she did not wish to
meet any of those people of Marouillais by
chance in their visits to the town. J. B.
Constant agreed that in this particular she
was in the right; nor, when she left Marouille-le-Gency,
did he make public the fact that she
was about to proceed to school to receive a
polite education. He merely said that a married
sister of his, who kept an hotel at Lyons, had
agreed to receive Valérie, and to look after
her morals, and make her useful. La Beugleuse
did not care to contradict this statement.
Perhaps she was never enlightened as to the