Eustacie had, for a year and a half, lived with peasants; and, indeed, since the trials of her life had really begun, she had never been with a woman of her own station to whom she could give confidence, or from whom she could look for sympathy.  And thus a very few inquiries and tokens of interest from the old lady drew out the whole story, and more than once filled Madame de Quinet’s eyes with tears.

There was only one discrepancy; Eustacie could not believe that the Abbe de Mericour had been a faithless messenger.  Oh, no! either those savage-looking sailors had played him false, or else her bele-mere would not send for her.  ’My mother-in-law never loved me,’ said Eustacie; ’I know she never did.  And now she has children by her second marriage, and no doubt would not see my little one preferred to them.  I will not be HER suppliant.’

‘And what then would you do?’ said Madame de Quinet, with a more severe tone.

‘Never leave my dear father,’ said Eustacie, with a flash of eagerness; ’Maitre Isaac I mean.  He has been more to me than any—­ any one I ever knew—­save——­’

‘You have much cause for gratitude to him,’ said Madame de Quinet.  ’I honour your filial love to him.  Yet, you have duties to this little one.  You have no right to keep her from her position.  You ought to write to England again.  I am sure Maitre Isaac tells you so.’

Eustacie would have pouted, but the grave, kind authority of the manner prevented her from being childish, and she said, ’If I wrote, it should be to my husband’s grandfather, who brought him up, designated him as his heir, and whom he loved with all his heart.  But, oh, Madame, he has one of those English names!  So dreadful!  It sounds like Vol-au-vent, but it is not that precisely.’

Madame de Quinet smiled, but she was a woman of resources.  ’See, my friend,’ she said, ’the pursuivant of the consuls here has the rolls of the herald’s visitations throughout the kingdom.  The arms and name of the Baron de Ribaumont’s wife will there be entered; and from my house at Quinet you shall write, and I, too, will write; my son shall take care that the letters be forwarded safely, and you shall await their arrival under my protection.  That will be more fitting than running the country with an old pastor, hein?’

‘Madame, nothing shall induce me to quit him!’ exclaimed Eustacie, vehemently.

‘Hear me out, child,’ said the Duchess.  ’He goes with us to assist my chaplain; he is not much fitter for wandering than you, or less so.  And you, Madame, must, I fear me, still remain his daughter-in-law in my household; or if you bore your own name and rank, this uncle and cousin of yours might learn that you were still living; and did they claim you—–­’

‘Oh, Madame, rather let me be your meanest kitchen-girl!’

’To be—­what do they call you?—­Esperance Gardon will be quite enough.  I have various women here—­widows, wives, daughters or sufferers for the truth’s sake, who either are glad of rest, or are trained up to lead a godly life in the discipline of my household.  Among them you can live without suspicion, provided,’ the old lady added, smiling, ’you can abstain from turning the heads of our poor young candidates.’