—­Certainly.

—­He knew so well how to compassionate human infirmities.  Ah! when nature speaks, she speaks very loudly.

—­Do you know anything about it, Veronica?

—­Who does not know it?  I can certainly acknowledge that to you, since you are my Cure and my confessor.

—­That is true, Veronica.

—­And to whom should a poor servant acknowledge her secret thoughts, if not to her Cure and her confessor?  He is her only friend in this world, is he not?

The Cure did not reply.  He considered the strange shape the conversation was taking, and cast a look of defiance at the woman.

—­You do not answer, sir, she said.  You do not look upon me as your friend, that is wrong.  Is it because I have surprised your secrets?

—­I have no secrets.

—­Yes?....  Suzanne?

—­Enough on that subject.  Do not revive my shame, since you call yourself my friend.

—­Oh! sir, it is precisely for that, it is because I do not want you to distress yourself about so little.  Listen to me, sir, I am older than you, and although I am not so learned, I have the experience which, as they say, is not picked up in books:  well, this experience has taught me many things which perhaps you do not suspect.

—­Explain yourself.

—­I would have explained already, if you had wished it.  The other evening you were quite sad, sitting by that fireless grate; you were thinking of I don’t know what, but certainly it was not of anything very lively, so much so that it went to my heart.  I suspected what was vexing you; I wanted to speak to you, but you repulsed me almost brutally.  Nevertheless, if you had listened to me that day, what has just happened might not have occurred.

—­I don’t understand you.

—­I will make myself understood ... if you allow me.

XL.

LITTLE CONFESSIONS.

  “To relate one’s misfortunes often
  alleviates them.”

  CORNEILLE (Polyeucte).

The Cure laid his forehead between his hands, and rested his elbows on his knees, a common attitude among confessors.

—­I am listening to you, he said.

—­I said to you, Monsieur le Cure, do not despair.  You will excuse a poor servant’s boldness, but it is the friendship I have for you which has urged me; nothing else, believe me; I am an honest girl, entirely devoted to my masters.  You are the fourth, Monsieur le Cure, yes, the fourth master.  Well! the three others have never had to complain about me a single moment for indiscretion, or for idleness, or for want of attention, or for anything, in fact, for anything.  Never a harsh word.  “You have done well, Veronica; that’s quite right, Veronica; do as you think proper, Veronica; your advice is excellent, Veronica.”  Those are all the rough words which have been said to me, Monsieur Marcel.  Therefore, I repeat, really it went to my heart to hear you speaking harshly sometimes to me, and to see that you did not appear satisfied with me.  I had not been accustomed to that.