amazed to find her such a wreck. And on her side Valentine gazed, all
astonishment, at Marianne, noticing with surprise how calm and strong the
young woman seemed, and how limpid her clear and smiling eyes remained.

On the day of the Froments' visit Seguin had gone out early in the
morning, and when they arrived he had not yet returned. Thus the lunch
was for a short time kept waiting, and during the interval Celeste, the
maid, entered the room where the visitors sat near her mistress, who was
stretched upon a sofa, looking a perfect picture of distress. Valentine
turned a questioning glance on the servant, who forthwith replied:

"No, madame, Monsieur has not come back yet. But that woman of my village
is here. You know, madame, the woman I spoke to you about, Sophie
Couteau, La Couteau as we call her at Rougemont, who brings nurses to
Paris?"

"Well, what of it?" exclaimed Valentine, on the point of ordering Celeste
to leave the room, for it seemed to her quite outrageous to be disturbed
in this manner.

"Well, madame, she's here; and as I told you before, if you would intrust
her with the matter now she would find a very good wet nurse for you in
the country, and bring her here whenever she's wanted."

La Couteau had been standing behind the door, which had remained ajar,
and scarcely had Celeste finished than, without waiting for an
invitation, she boldly entered the room. She was a quick little wizened
woman, with certain peasant ways, but considerably polished by her
frequent journeys to Paris. So far as her small keen eyes and pointed
nose went her long face was not unpleasant, but its expression of good