ightly. From the first La Fosseuse
became almost a companion to the young heiress; she was taught to read
and write, and her future mistress sometimes amused herself by giving
her music lessons. She was treated sometimes as a lady's companion,
sometimes as a waiting-maid, and in this way they made an incomplete
being of her. She acquired a taste for luxury and for dress, together
with manners ill-suited to her real position. She has been roughly
schooled by misfortune since then, but the vague feeling that she is
destined for a higher lot has not been effaced in her.

"A day came at last, however, a fateful day for the poor girl, when the
young countess (who was married by this time) discovered La Fosseuse
arrayed in one of her ball dresses, and dancing before a mirror. La
Fosseuse was no longer anything but a waiting-maid, and the orphan girl,
then sixteen years of age, was dismissed without pity. Her idle ways
plunged her once more into poverty; she wandered about begging by the
roadside, and working at times as I have told you. Sometimes she thought
of drowning herself, sometimes also of giving herself to the first
comer; she spent most of her time thinking dark thoughts, lying by
the side of a wall in the sun, with her face buried in the grass, and
passers-by would sometimes throw a few halfpence to her, simply because
she asked them for nothing. One whole year she spent in a hospital at
Annecy after heavy toil in the harvest field; she had only undertaken
the work in the hope that it would kill her, and that so she might die.
You should hear her herself when she speaks of her feelings and ideas
during this time of her life; her simple confidences are often very
curious.

"She came back to the little town at last, just about the time when I
decided to take up my abode in it. I wanted to understand the minds of
the people beneath my rule; her character struck me, and I made a
study of it; then when I became aware of her physical infirmities, I
determined to watch over her. Perhaps in time she may grow accustomed to
work with her needle, but, whatever happens, I have secured her future."

"She is quite alone up there!" said Genestas.

"No. One of my herdswomen sleeps in the house," the doctor answered.
"You did not see my farm buildings which lie behind the house. They are
hidden by the pine-trees. Oh! she is quite safe. Moreover, there are no
mauvais sujets here in the valley; if any come among us by any chance, I