"'Yes, monsieur; so she has. Mignonne's the daughter of honest laboring people of this town; but she lost her father and mother when she was very young. Then she caught the fancy of a lady in Paris, and she took her away and said she'd give her a good education. Mignonne Landernoy had nobody left but an old aunt, who wa'n't none too rich. So she let her niece go; the child was twelve years old then. She stayed in Paris three years. I don't know just what she learned there--to read and write and do embroidery, and sew on canvas--in short, a lot of useless things that make a country girl fit for nothing. So, when she came back to her aunt, she couldn't be made to work in the fields again. _Ouiche!_ she said it made her back ache!' "'But why did she come back? Why did she leave the lady who took her to Paris?' "'Because the lady died, and then, you see, her heirs didn't choose to keep the little girl from Sceaux. They began by turning her out of doors, and Mignonne was very happy to come back to her old aunt.' "'Has she been to Paris again since?' "'No; but I don't think it's for lack of wanting to. You can imagine that she's kept something of the manners she learned from living with city folks: a way of acting, and little tricks of speech--Oh! she's no peasant now. Why, mamzelle sets the fashions here! When the other girls want to make themselves a cap, or an apron, or a neckerchief, they say: "I'll go and ask Mignonne if this will look well on me, and how to wear it."--And it's Mignonne here, and Mignonne there! Why, you'd think she was an oracle, nothing more or less! When Mignonne says: "You mustn't wear that," or: "You mustn't walk on your toes like that," or: "You mustn't dance on that leg," you needn't be afraid they'll do it. And then, as Mamzelle Mignonne can read novels, she knows lots of stories and adventures, you see. So, when she's talking, the peasant girls prick up their ears, like my donkey does when he feels frisky. Why, those Dargenettes are as proud as peacocks because Mignonne agreed to go to Fontenay-aux-Roses with them!' "'But what does the girl do here, as she doesn't work in the fields?' "'_Dame!_ she makes over dresses, and makes caps for the other girls; she's the town milliner, but her poor aunt has only just enough for the two of 'em. And what I can't forgive the girl for is refusing Claude Flaquart, a good match for her, who was willing to marry her, for all she didn't have a sou. Claude Flaquart was mad over her. You see, she's a pretty little thing--and then, her affected ways are sure to turn a fool's head.' "'You say she refused him?' "'Yes, monsieur! Think of refusing a man who owns a field and a vineyard, three cows, two calves, rabbits, and geese! What in God's name does she want, anyway? a lord? a potentate?' "'What reason did she give for refusing such a fine match?'