“But I find it is true,” said M. Guillaume. “She does not show any readiness to obey. I do not understand it. I have always been accustomed to be obeyed, and I do not understand it,” he added, with plaintive iteration. “Since she has the child she has power, I suppose that is the explanation. Ladies--with every respect--are rarely able to support the temptation of having power. Madame will pardon me for saying so, I am sure.” “But you have power also,” said Miss Susan. “She is dependent upon you, is she not? and I don’t see how she can resist what you say. She has nothing of her own, I suppose?” she continued, pausing upon this point in her inquiries. “She told me so. If she is dependent upon you, she must do as you say.” “That is very true,” said the old shopkeeper, with a certain embarrassment; “but I must speak frankly to Madame, who is sensible, and will not be offended with what I say. Perhaps it is for this she has come here. It has occurred to my good wife, who has a very good head, that le petit has already rights which should not be forgotten. I do not hesitate to say that women are very quick; these things come into their heads sooner than with us, sometimes. My wife thought that there should be a demand for an allowance, a something, for the heir. My wife, Madame knows, is very careful of her children. She loves to lay up for them, to make a little money for them. Le petit had never been thought of, and there was no provision made. She has said for a long time that a little _rente_, a--what you call allowance, should be claimed for the child. Giovanna has heard it, and that has put another idea into her foolish head; but Madame will easily perceive that the claim is very just, of a something--a little revenue--for the heir.” “From whom is this little revenue to come?” said Miss Susan, looking at him with a calm which she did not feel. M. Guillaume was embarrassed for the moment; but a man who is accustomed to look at his fellow-creatures from the other side of a counter, and to take money from them, however delicate his feelings may be, has seldom much hesitation in making pecuniary claims. From whom? He had not carefully considered the question. Whiteladies in general had been represented to him by that metaphorical pronoun which is used for so many vague things. _They_ ought to give the heir this income; but who _they_ were, he was unable on the spur of the moment to say. “Madame asks from whom?” he said. “I am a stranger. I know little more than the name. From Vite-ladies--from Madame herself--from the estates of which le petit is the heir.” “I have nothing to do with the estates,” said Miss Susan. She was so thankful to be able to speak to him without any one by to make her afraid, that she explained herself with double precision and clearness, and took pains to put a final end to his hopes.