"Oh! yes, to be sure. She is not content with having ruined our master, but now lays claim to everything he left. She is trying to prosecute us in fifty different ways; she says that Cadet Blanchet gave her promissory notes, and that even if she sold everything over our heads, she would not be paid. She sends us bailiffs every day, and the expenses are already considerable. Our mistress has paid all she could, in trying to pacify her, and I am very much afraid that she will die of this worry, on top of all the fatigue she underwent during her husband's illness. At this rate, we shall soon be without food and fire. The servant of the mill has left us, because he was owed two years' wages, and could not be paid. The mill has stopped running, and if this goes on, we shall lose our customers. The horses and crops have been attached, and are to be sold; the trees are to be cut down. Oh, François, it is ruin!" Her tears began to flow afresh. "And how about you, Catherine?" asked François; "are you a creditor, too? Have your wages been paid?" "I, a creditor?" said Catherine, changing her wail into a roar; "never, never! It is nobody's business whether my wages are paid or not!" "Good for you, Catherine; you show the right spirit!" said François. "Keep on taking care of your mistress, and do not bother about the rest I have earned a little money in my last place, and I have enough with me to save the horses, the crops, and the trees. I am going to pay a little visit to the mill, and if I find it in disorder, I shall not need a wheelwright to set it going again. Jeannie is as swift as a little bird, and he must set out immediately and run all day, and then begin again to-morrow morning, so as to let all the customers know that the mill is creaking like ten thousand devils, and that the miller is waiting to grind the corn." "Shall we send for a doctor for our mistress?" "I have been thinking about it; but I am going to wait and watch her all day, before making up my mind. "Do you see, Catherine, I believe that doctors are useful when the sick cannot do without them; but if the disease is not violent, it is easier to recover with God's help, than with their drugs: not taking into consideration that the mere presence of a doctor, which cures the rich, often kills the poor. He cheers and amuses those who live in luxury, but he scares and oppresses those who never see him except in the day of danger. It seems to me that Madame Blanchet will recover very soon, if her affairs are straightened. "And before we finish this conversation, Catherine, tell me one thing more; I ask the truth of you, and you must not scruple to tell it to me. It will go no further; I have not changed, and if you remember me, you must know that a secret is safe in the waif's bosom." "Yes, yes, I know," said Catherine; "but why do you consider yourself a waif? Nobody will call you any more by that name, for you do not deserve it, François."