k again to the old question.

"Is it wrong to keep a secret?" she asked, her face turned away from the
man at the window.

"If it is the secret of a sin, and the sin is your own--yes, Margot."

"And if the sin is not your own?"

"If you share the sin, and if the secret means injury to others, and a
wrong is being done, and the law can right that wrong, then you must go
to the law, not to your priest."

The Cure's look was grave, even anxious, for he saw that the old woman's
mind was greatly disturbed. But her face cleared now, and stayed so.
"It has all been a mix and a muddle," she answered; "and it hurt my poor
head, M'sieu' le Cure, but now I think I under stand. I am not afraid; I
will confess."

The Cure had made it clear to her that she could carry to her grave the
secret of the little cross and the work it had done, and so keep her
word and still not injure her chances of salvation. She was content.
She no longer needed the helpful presence of M'sieu' or Rosalie. Charley
instinctively felt what was in her mind, and came towards the bed.

"I will tell Mademoiselle Rosalie about the tea," he said to her.

She looked up at him, almost smiling. "Thank you, good M'sieu'," she
said.

"I will confess now, M'sieu' le Cure" she continued. Charley left the
room.

Towards morning Margot waked out of a brief sleep, and found the Cure
and his sister and others about her bed.

"Is it near sunrise?" she whispered.

"It is just sunrise. See; God has been good," answered the Cure, drawing
open the blind and letting in the first golden rays.

Rosalie entered the room with a cup of tea, and came towards the bed.

Old Margot looked at the girl, at the tea, and then at the Cure.

"Drink the tea for me, Rosalie," she whispered. Rosalie did as she was
asked.

She looked round feebly; her eyes were growing filmy. "I never
gave--so much--trouble--before," she managed to say. "I never had--so
much--attention.... I can keep--a secret too," she said, setting her
lips feebly with pride. "But I--never--had--so much--attention--before;
have I--Rosalie?"

Rosalie did not need to answer, for the woman was gone. The crowning
interest of her life had come all at the last moment, as it were, and
she had gone away almost gladly and with a kind of pride.

Rosalie also had a hidden pride: the secret was now her very own--hers
and M'sieu's.

CHAPTER XXIV. THE SEIGNEUR TAKES A HAND IN THE GAME

It was St. Jean Baptiste's