"When they first saw her, they were astonished," wrote the simple, tender Valentin. "I went with her to present herself. My employer had recommended her. There is a son who is past his youth, and who has evidently seen the world. He is aristocratic and fair, and slightly bald, but extremely handsome still. He sat holding a newspaper in his long, white fingers, and when we entered, he raised his eyes above it and looked at Laure, and I heard him exclaim under his breath, '_Mon Dieu!_ as if her beauty fairly startled him." When the _Cure_, to whom the proud mother showed the letter, read this part, he did not seem as rejoiced as Mere Giraud had expected. On the contrary, he looked a little grave, and rubbed his forehead. "Ah, ah!" he said; "there lies the danger." "Danger!" exclaimed Mere Giraud, starting. He turned, and regarded her with a rather hesitant air, as if he were at once puzzled and fearful,--puzzled by her simplicity, and fearful of grieving her unnecessarily. "Valentin is a good lad," he said. "Valentin will be watchful,--though perhaps he is too good to suspect evil." Mere Giraud put her hand to her heart. "You are not afraid?" she said, quite proudly, beginning at last to comprehend. "You are not afraid of evil to Laure?" "No, no, no," he answered; "surely not." He said no more then, but he always asked to see the letters, and read them with great care, sometimes over and over again. They came very regularly for six or seven months, and then there was a gap of a few weeks, and then came a strange, almost incomprehensible, letter from Valentin, containing news which almost caused Mere Giraud's heart to burst with joy and gratitude. Laure was married, and had made such a marriage as could scarcely have been dreamed of. A rich aristocrat, who had visited her employers, had fallen in love with her, and married her. He had no family to restrain him, and her beauty had won him completely from the first hour. He had carried her away with him to make a prolonged tour. The family with whom she had lived had been lavish in their gifts and kindness, but they had left Paris also and were voyaging. The name of Laure's bridegroom was Legrand, and there came messages from Laure, and inclosed was a handsome present of money. Mere Giraud was overwhelmed with joy. Before three hours had passed, all St Croix knew the marvelous news. She went from house to house showing the letter and the money, and it was not until night that she cooled down sufficiently to labor through a long epistle to Valentin.