"You have lived here many years," I continued; "you ought to know better than I. What do they say of her here? What do they think of her in the village? What kind of a life did she lead before I knew her? Whom did she receive as her friends?"
"In faith, sir, I have never seen her do otherwise than she does every day, that is to say, walk in the valley, play piquet with her aunt, and visit the poor. The peasants call her Brigitte la Rose; I have never heard a word against her except that she goes through the woods alone at all hours of the day and night; but that is when engaged in charitable work. She is the ministering angel in the valley. As for those she receives, there are only the cure and M. de Dalens, during vacation."
"Who is this M. de Dalens?"
"He owns the chateau at the foot of the mountain on the other side; he only comes here for the chase."
"Is he young?"
"Yes."
"Is he related to Madame Pierson?"
"No, he was a friend of her husband."
"Has her husband been dead long?"
"Five years on All-Saints' day. He was a worthy man."