“My dear, this girl is getting more intolerable every day,” says Adolphe one morning to his wife, on noticing Justine listening at the key-hole, “and if you don’t send her away, I will!”
Caroline, greatly alarmed, is obliged to give Justine a talking to, while her husband is out.
“Justine, you take advantage of my kindness to you: you have high wages, here, you have perquisites, presents: try to keep your place, for my husband wants to send you away.”
The maid humbles herself to the earth, she sheds tears: she is so attached to madame! Ah! she would rush into the fire for her: she would let herself be chopped into mince-meat: she is ready for anything.
“If you had anything to conceal, madame, I would take it on myself and say it was me!”
“Very well, Justine, very good, my girl,” says Caroline, terrified: “but that’s not the point: just try to keep in your place.”
“Ah, ha!” says Justine to herself, “monsieur wants to send me away, does he? Wait and see the deuce of a life I’ll lead you, you old curmudgeon!”
A week after, Justine, who is dressing her mistress’ hair, looks in the glass to make sure that Caroline can see all the grimaces of her countenance: and Caroline very soon inquires, “Why, what’s the matter, Justine?”
“I would tell you, readily, madame, but then, madame, you are so weak with monsieur!”
“Come, go on, what is it?”
“I know now, madame, why master wanted to show me the door: he has confidence in nobody but Benoit, and Benoit is playing the mum with me.”
“Well, what does that prove? Has anything been discovered?”
“I’m sure that between the two they are plotting something against you madame,” returns the maid with authority.
Caroline, whom Justine watches in the glass, turns pale: all the tortures of the previous petty trouble return, and Justine sees that she has become as indispensable to her mistress as spies are to the government when a conspiracy is discovered. Still, Caroline’s friends do not understand why she keeps so disagreeable a servant girl, one who wears a hat, whose manners are impertinent, and who gives herself the airs of a lady.
This stupid domination is talked of at Madame Deschars’, at Madame de Fischtaminel’s, and the company consider it funny. A few ladies think they can see certain monstrous reasons for it, reasons which compromise Caroline’s honor.
Axiom.—In society, people can put cloaks on every kind of truth, even the prettiest.
In short the aria della calumnia is executed precisely as if Bartholo were singing it.
It is averred that Caroline cannot discharge her maid.
Society devotes itself desperately to discovering the secret of this enigma. Madame de Fischtaminel makes fun of Adolphe who goes home in a rage, has a scene with Caroline and discharges Justine.