—­Where must I begin?

—­Where you like; at the beginning, I suppose.

—­There are several of them.

—­Several beginnings?

—­Yes; I have had three masters, you know.

—­Well, with the last one, with Monsieur Fortin, that worthy man whom I knew slightly.

—­He was no better than the rest, Jesus! no.

—­The Abbe Fortin?

—­Lord God, yes, the Abbe Fortin!

—­What has he done then?

—­My God ... you know well, that which one does when one ... is a man ... and has a warm temperament.

—­To you, Veronica, to you?

—­Alas, sweet Jesus.  Ah, Monsieur le Cure, I am so good-natured, I don’t know how to resist.  And then, you know, it is so hard for a poor servant to resist her master, particularly when he is a priest, who holds all your confidence, and possesses all your secrets, and with whom you live in a certain kind of intimacy; and besides a priest is cautious, and one may be quite sure that nothing of what goes on inside the parsonage, will get out through the parsonage door.

—­Assuredly; he will not go and noise his faults abroad.

—­And so with us, the priests’ servants, who could be more cautious than we are?  We have as much in it as our masters, have we not? and a sin concealed is a sin half pardoned.

—­Yes, Veronica, it was said long ago:  “The scandal of the world is what causes the offence.  And ’tis not sinning to sin in silence.”

—­Those are words of wisdom; who is it who said so?

—­A very clever man, called Monsieur Tartuffe.

—­I see that.  Be must have been a priest, at least?

—­He was not an ecclesiastic, but he was somewhat of a churchman.

—­That is just as I thought.  Certainly we must hide our faults.  Who would believe in us without that?  I say us, for I am also somewhat a church-woman.

—­Undoubtedly.

—­I have spent my life among ecclesiastics.  My father was beadle at St.
Eprive’s and my mother the Cure’s housekeeper.

—­That is your title.

—­Is it not?  Then I have the honour to be your maid-servant, and I am the head of the association of the Holy Virgin.

—­No one could contest your claims, Veronica; add to that you are a worthy and cautious person, and let us return to Monsieur Fortin.  Ah, I cannot contain my astonishment.  Monsieur Fortin!...  And how did he go to work to ... seduce you?  He must have used much deceit.

—­All the angels of heavens are witnesses to it, sir, and you shall judge.

L.

MAMMOSA VIRGO!

“The monk could not refrain from admiring the freshness and plumpness of this woman.  For a long time he made his eyes speak, and he managed it so well that in the end he inspired the lady with the same desire with which he was burning.”

  BOCCACIO (La Decameron).