In Jerome’s eyes ten thousand francs could alter the laws of optics; he saw in Mariette a neat figure; he did not perceive the pits and seams which virulent smallpox had left on her flat, parched face; to him the crooked mouth was straight; and ever since Savaron, by taking him into his service, had brought him so near to the Wattevilles’ house, he had laid siege systematically to the maid, who was as prim and sanctimonious as her mistress, and who, like every ugly old maid, was far more exacting than the handsomest. If the night-scene in the kiosk is thus fully accounted for to all perspicacious readers, it was not so to Rosalie, though she derived from it the most dangerous lesson that can be given, that of a bad example. A mother brings her daughter up strictly, keeps her under her wing for seventeen years, and then, in one hour, a servant girl destroys the long and painful work, sometimes by a word, often indeed by a gesture! Rosalie got into bed again, not without considering how she might take advantage of her discovery. Next morning, as she went to Mass accompanied by Mariette--her mother was not well--Rosalie took the maid’s arm, which surprised the country wench not a little. “Mariette,” said she, “is Jerome in his master’s confidence?” “I do not know, mademoiselle.” “Do not play the innocent with me,” said Mademoiselle de Watteville drily. “You let him kiss you last night under the kiosk; I no longer wonder that you so warmly approved of my mother’s ideas for the improvements she planned.” Rosalie could feel how Mariette was trembling by the shaking of her arm. “I wish you no ill,” Rosalie went on. “Be quite easy; I shall not say a word to my mother, and you can meet Jerome as often as you please.” “But, mademoiselle,” said Mariette, “it is perfectly respectable; Jerome honestly means to marry me--” “But then,” said Rosalie, “why meet at night?” Mariette was dumfounded, and could make no reply. “Listen, Mariette; I am in love too! In secret and without any return. I am, after all, my father’s and mother’s only child. You have more to hope for from me than from any one else in the world--” “Certainly, mademoiselle, and you may count on us for life or death,” exclaimed Mariette, rejoiced at the unexpected turn of affairs. “In the first place, silence for silence,” said Rosalie. “I will not marry Monsieur de Soulas; but one thing I will have, and must have; my help and favor are yours on one condition only.” “What is that?” “I must see the letters which Monsieur Savaron sends to the post by Jerome.” “But what for?” said Mariette in alarm. “Oh! merely to read them, and you yourself shall post them afterwards. It will cause a little delay; that is all.” At this moment they went into church, and each of them, instead of reading the order of Mass, fell into her own train of thought. “Dear, dear, how many sins are there in all that?” thought Mariette.