"Jeanne Le Godec, Madame." The lady shrugged her shoulders. "Jeanne," she exclaimed. "That is not a servant's name; that is a name for a young girl. If you enter my service, you do not expect, I suppose, to keep this name Jeanne?" "As Madame likes." Jeanne had lowered her head, and was leaning with her two hands on the handle of her umbrella. "Raise your head," ordered the lady; "stand up straight. Don't you see you are making a hole in the carpet with the point of your umbrella? Where do you come from?" "From Saint-Brieuc." "From Saint-Brieuc!" And she gave a pout of disdain that quickly turned into a frightful grimace. The corners of her mouth and eyes contracted, as if she had swallowed a glass of vinegar. "From Saint-Brieuc!" she repeated. "Then you are a Breton? Oh! I do not like the Bretons. They are obstinate and dirty." "I am very clean, Madame," protested the poor Jeanne. "You say so. However, we haven't reached that yet. How old are you?" "Twenty-six." "Twenty-six? Not counting the nursing months, no doubt? You look much older. It is not worth while to deceive me." "I am not deceiving Madame. I assure Madame I am only twenty-six. If I look older, it is because I have been sick a long time." "Oh! you have been sick?" replied the _bourgeoise_, in a voice of sneering severity. "Oh! you have been sick a long time? I warn you, my girl, that the place, though not a very hard one, is of some importance, and that I must have a woman of very good health." Jeanne tried to repair her imprudent words. She declared: "Oh! I am cured, quite cured." "That is your affair. Moreover, we haven't reached that yet. You are married or single, which? What are you?" "I am a widow, Madame." "Ah! You have no child, I suppose?" And, as Jeanne did not answer directly, the lady insisted, more sharply: "Say, have you children, yes or no?" "I have a little girl," she confessed, timidly. Then, making grimaces and gestures as if she were scattering a lot of flies, she cried: "Oh! no child in the house; no child in the house; not under any consideration. Where is your little girl?" "She is with my husband's aunt." "And what is this aunt?" "She keeps a wine-shop in Rouen." "A deplorable calling. Drunkenness and debauchery,--that is a pretty example for a little girl! However, that concerns you, that is your affair. How old is your little girl?" "Eighteen months, Madame." Madame gave a start, and turned violently in her arm-chair. This was too much for her; she was scandalized. A sort of growl escaped from her lips. "Children! Think of it! Children, when one cannot bring them up, or have them at home! These people are incorrigible; the devil is in their bodies!" Becoming more and more aggressive, and even ferocious, she addressed herself to Jeanne again, who stood trembling before her gaze.