I temporised. "My dear," said I, "when you first knew me I wore a blue blouse and boots with wooden soles. Almost the last time you had the happiness of beholding me, I was clad in the purple and fine linen of a dress-suit. You weren't alarmed at my putting on civilised garments, why should you be excited at the master doing the same?" "If you talk like the master, I shall detest you," exclaimed Blanquette. "You do it because you are hiding something. _Ah, mon petit frère_," she said with a change of tone and putting her arm round my neck, "tell me what is happening. He is going to be married to the beautiful lady, eh?" She looked into my eyes. Hers were deep and brown and a world of pain lay behind them. I am a bad liar. She freed me roughly. "I see. It is true. He is going to be married. He does not want me any longer. It is all finished. O _mon Dieu, mon Dieu_! What is to become of me?" She wept, rubbing away the tears with her knuckles. I tried to comfort her and lent her my pocket-handkerchief. She need have no fear, I said. As long as the master lived her comfort was assured. She turned on me. "Do you think I would let him keep me in idleness while he was married to another woman? But no. It would be _malhonnête_. I would never do such a thing." She looked at me almost fiercely. There was something noble in her pride. It would be dishonourable to accept without giving. She would never do that, never. "But what will become of you, my dear Blanquette?" I asked. "Look, Asticot. I would give him all that he would ask. I am his, all, all, to do what he likes with. I have told you. I would sleep on the ground outside his door every night, if that were his good pleasure. It is not much that I demand. But he must be alone in the room, _entends-tu_? Another woman comes to cherish him, and I no longer have any place near him. I must be far away. And what would be the good of being far away from him? What shall I do? _Tiens_, as soon as he marries, _je vais me fich' à l'eau_." "You are going to do _what_?" I cried incredulously. She repeated that she would "chuck" herself into the river--"_Se fich à l'eau_" is not the French of Racine. I remonstrated. She retorted that if she could not keep the master's house in order there was nothing left to live for. Much better be dead than eat your heart out in misery. "You are talking like a wicked girl," said I severely, "and it will be my duty to tell the master." She gave her eyes a final dab with my handkerchief which she restored to me with an air of scornful resentment. "If you do, you will be infamous, and I will never speak to you again as long as I live." I descended from my Rhadamanthine seat and reflected that the betrayal of Blanquette's confidence would not be a gallant action. I maintained my dignity, however. "Then I must hear nothing more about you drowning yourself." "We will not talk of it any longer," said Blanquette, frigidly. "I am going to cook the dinner."