Her locks of pride
are shorn off; she veils her beauty, and kneels a nun on the cold
stones of her passionless cell, out of which, even with repentance,
there comes no deliverance.
Mere Malheur's arrival at Beaumanoir was speedily known to all the
servants of the Chateau. She did not often visit them, but when she
did there was a hurried recital of an Ave or two to avert any harm,
followed by a patronizing welcome and a rummage for small coins to
cross her hand withal in return for her solutions of the grave
questions of love, jealousy, money, and marriage, which fermented
secretly or openly in the bosoms of all of them. They were but
human beings, food for imposture, and preyed on by deceivers. The
visit of Mere Malheur was an event of interest in both kitchen and
laundry of the Chateau.
Dame Tremblay had the first claim, however, upon this singular
visitor. She met her at the back door of the Chateau, and with a
face beaming with smiles, and dropping all dignity, exclaimed,--
"Mere Malheur, upon my life! Welcome, you wicked old soul! you
surely knew I wanted to see you! come in and rest! you must be
tired, unless you came on a broom! ha! ha! come to my room and never
mind anybody!"
This last remark was made for the benefit of the servants who stood
peeping at every door and corner, not daring to speak to the old
woman in the presence of the housekeeper, but knowing that their
time would come, they had patience.
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