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Updated: June 8, 2025
Not a mouse shall hear us come in!" replied Fanchon, quite proud now of the secret understanding between herself and her mistress. "And again mind that loose tongue of yours! Remember, Fanchon, I will cut it out as sure as you live if you betray me." "Yes, my Lady!" Fanchon's tongue felt somewhat paralyzed under the threat of Angelique, and she bit it painfully as if to remind it of its duty.
Fanchon's eyes dilated with pleasure at such a mark of confidence. "Yes, my Lady," replied she, "if I had lost my jewels I should know what to do. But ladies who can read and write and who have the wisest gentlemen to give them counsel do not need to seek advice where poor habitan girls go when in trouble and perplexity." "And where is that, Fanchon?
But it is easy enough to see how fast a day of vacation will go by if you, Stephen, or you, Clara, have these several resources or determinations. Here is the ground-plan of it, as I might steal it from Fanchon's journals: "TUESDAY. Second day of vacation. Fair. Wind west. Thermometer sixty-three degrees, before breakfast. Be careful about this. "Wiped while Sarah washed.
She helps me so.... She told me what you did at Fanchon's party." "She did! Well, what's your verdict?" he queried, grimly. "That break queered me in Middleville." "I agree with what Doctor Wallace said to his congregation," returned Mel. As Lane met the blue fire of her eyes he experienced another singularly deep and profound thrill, as if the very depths of him had been stirred.
If ever I saw a cool, smooth, handsome devil it was Lane.... Well, he said what he said. I thought Mrs. Smith would faint. It is my idea Lane had a deep motive back of his remark about Fanchon's dress and her dancing. The fact is Lane was sick at what he saw sick and angry. And he wanted Fanchon's mother and me to know what he thought." "It was an insult," declared Mrs. Maynard, vehemently.
No one could have recognized the voice as Fanchon's, yet everyone who heard it knew that it was hers; and that the soul of Crailey Gray had gone out upon the quest for the Holy Grail. Miss Betty's hands clenched convulsively round the arm of the bench and a fit of shuddering seized her as if with the grip of a violent chill, though her eyes were dry. Then she lay quiet.
"I think she does, my Lady, you cannot live in a chimney with another without both getting black alike, and Mere Malheur is a black witch as sure as my aunt is a white one," was Fanchon's reply. "What said your aunt on leaving?" asked her mistress. "I did not see her leave, my Lady; I only learned from Ambroise Gariepy that she had crossed the river this morning to return to St. Valier."
"And who is Ambroise Gariepy, Fanchon? You have a wide circle of acquaintance for a young girl, I think!" Angelique knew the dangers of gossiping too well not to fear Fanchon's imprudences.
The good old man had been resting years and years now under the shadow of the church, in a grass-grown bed; for Fanchon's cot had been her grandfather's when he was a little lad, and he had slept where she sleeps now. A curtain of pink-sprigged cotton protects her slumbers; she sleeps, and in her dreams she sees the Blue Bird flying to his sweetheart's Castle.
Gray, who had looked so ashamed last night. What feud could they make over him, of all people in the world? He looked strong enough to take care of his own quarrels, even if he was so rigorously bound by Fanchon's apron-string when it came to a word with another girl!
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