During much of that afternoon M. le Cure sat with Madame Voss, but not a word was said to Marie about her disobedience either by him or by her.  Nevertheless, Marie felt that her sins were being discussed, and that the lecture was coming.  She herself had never quite liked M. le Cure—­not having any special reason for disliking him, but regarding him as a man who was perhaps a little deficient in spirit, and perhaps a trifle too mindful of his creature comforts.  M. le Cure took a great deal of snuff, and Marie did not like snuff taking.  Her uncle smoked a great deal of tobacco, and that she thought very nice and proper in a man.  Had her uncle taken the snuff and the priest smoked the tobacco, she would probably have equally approved of her uncle’s practice and disapproved that of the priest;—­because she loved the one and did not love the other.  She had thought it probable that she might be sent for during the evening, and had, therefore, made for herself an immensity of household work, the performance of all which on that very evening the interests of the Lion d’Or would imperatively demand.  The work was all done, but no message from Aunt Josey summoned Marie into the little parlour.

Nevertheless Marie had been quite right in her judgment.  On the following morning, between eight and nine, M. le Cure was again in the house, and had a cup of coffee taken to him in the little parlour.  Marie, who felt angry at his return, would not take it herself, but sent it in by the hands of Peter Veque.  Peter Veque returned in a few minutes with a message to Marie, saying that M. le Cure wished to see her.

‘Tell him that I am very busy,’ said Marie.  ’Say that uncle is away, and that there is a deal to do.  Ask him if another day won’t suit as well.’

She knew when she sent this message that another day would not suit as well.  And she must have known also that her uncle’s absence made no difference in her work.  Peter came back with a request from Madame Voss that Marie would go to her at once.  Marie pressed her lips together, clenched her fists, and walked down into the room without the delay of an instant.

‘Marie, my dear,’ said Madame Voss, ’M. le Cure wishes to speak to you.  I will leave you for a few minutes.’  There was nothing for it but to listen.  Marie could not refuse to be lectured by the priest.  But she told herself that having had the courage to resist her uncle, it certainly was out of the question that any one else should have the power to move her.

‘My dear Marie,’ began the Cure, ’your aunt has been telling me of this little difference between you and your affianced husband.  Won’t you sit down, Marie, because we shall be able so to talk more comfortably?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it at all,’ said Marie.  But she sat down as she was bidden.