“It would be very vulgar to say ‘Yes, Miss,’ in English.” “To be sure it would; but it is very different in French. One _can_ say—_must_ say Mademoiselle to a young unmarried female in that language; though it be vulgar to say Miss, without the name, in English. French, you know, Anna, is a much more precise language than our own; and those who speak it, do not take the liberties with it that we take with the English. _Madame_ always infers a married woman; unless, indeed, it be with a woman a hundred years old.” “No French woman is ever _that_, John—but it _is_ odd that Marie Moulin, who so well understands the usages of her own little world, should have said _Madame_ to a _démoiselle_. Have I not heard, nevertheless, that Marie’s first salutation, when she was admitted to the gaol, was a simple exclamation of ‘Mademoiselle?’” “That is very true; for I heard it myself. What is more, that exclamation was almost as remarkable as this; French servants always adding the name under such circumstances, unless they are addressing their own particular mistresses. Madame, and Mademoiselle, are appropriated to those they serve; while it is Mademoiselle this, or Madame that, to every one else.” “And now she calls her _Mademoiselle_ or _Madame_! It only proves that too much importance is not to be attached to Marie Moulin’s sayings and doings.” “I’m not so sure of that. Marie has been three years in this country, as we all know. Now the young person that she left a _Mademoiselle_ might very well have become a _Madame_ in that interval of time. When they met, the domestic may have used the old and familiar term in her surprise; or she may not have known of the lady’s marriage. Afterwards, when there had been leisure for explanations between them, she gave her mistress her proper appellation.” “Does she habitually say Madame now, in speaking to this singular being?” “Habitually she is silent. Usually she remains in the cell, when any one is with Miss—or Mrs. Monson, perhaps I ought to say”—John used this last term with a strong expression of spite, which gave his companion a suppressed but infinite delight—“but when any one is with the mistress, call her what you will, the maid commonly remains in the dungeon or cell. Owing to this, I have never been in the way of hearing the last address the first, except on the two occasions named. I confess I begin to think——” “What, John?” “Why, that our _Miss_ Monson may turn out to be a married woman, after all.” “She is very young, is she not? Almost too young to be a wife?” “Not at all! What do you call too young? She is between twenty and twenty-two or three. She may even be twenty-five or six.” Anna sighed, though almost imperceptibly to herself; for these were ages that well suited her companion, though the youngest exceeded her own by a twelvemonth. Little more, however, was said on the subject at that interview.