Next morning, as she went to Mass accompanied by Mariette--her mother
was not well--Rosalie took the maid's arm, which surprised the country
wench not a little.
"Mariette," said she, "is Jerome in his master's confidence?"
"I do not know, mademoiselle."
"Do not play the innocent with me," said Mademoiselle de Watteville
drily. "You let him kiss you last night under the kiosk; I no longer
wonder that you so warmly approved of my mother's ideas for the
improvements she planned."
Rosalie could feel how Mariette was trembling by the shaking of her
arm.
"I wish you no ill," Rosalie went on. "Be quite easy; I shall not say
a word to my mother, and you can meet Jerome as often as you please."
"But, mademoiselle," said Mariette, "it is perfectly respectable;
Jerome honestly means to marry me--"
"But then," said Rosalie, "why meet at night?"
Mariette was dumfounded, and could make no reply.
"Listen, Mariette; I am in love too! In secret and without any return.
I am, after all, my father's and mother's only child. You have more to
hope for from me than from any one else in the world--"
"Certainly, mademoiselle, and you may count on us for life or death,"
exclaimed Mariette, rejoiced at the unexpected turn of affairs.
"In the first place, silence for silence," said Rosalie. "I will not
marry Monsieur de Soulas; but one thing I will have, and must have; my
help and favor are yours on one condition only.
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