“Oh! but yes, my Father,” she replied, coloring deeply, smoothing down her apron the while with her shapely brown hands. “Perhaps I have not the air of it, but I have seen things in my time. The people here know nothing of all that, but I remember the life over there in France. It is at the Court of our lord the King that my demoiselle should shine, among the great dames and brilliant demoiselles. Ah! that is what I would have for our little one. To see all the world admire her state, but with reverence, be it understood; to walk behind, to see and to share her glory, to repay the rebuffs we have received in our fallen fortunes, to hear it whispered as I pass, ‘There goes Nanon, serving-woman to Her Grace, Madame la Duchesse de’—— that is as it should be.”
A smile of irrepressible humor curved de Casson’s firm lips.
“Thou covetest this world’s glory, yet thou wouldst grudge her high place in the Heavenly Kingdom. My brave and loyal Nanon, thou wouldst generously sacrifice much to win happiness for thy mistress. I also would it were God’s will that the demoiselle should travel His way by a smooth and sunny road, but if there is no easier path to heaven, then bless her in taking that which is offered, my daughter. The roads leading to perfection are often dark and thorny.”
“And that is what I cannot bear,” sobbed Nanon, as the priest continued thoughtfully as though thinking aloud:
“To love is to serve. If service and affection are considered separately, the very essence of love, that which gives it life, is lost. After all, love, when unselfish, whether joyous or unfortunate in its results, must be splendid and lofty.” Then recalling his attention by an effort he added, “Thy loyal affection, my good Nanon, is not as wise and tender as that of thy Master, who knows all things and judges with clearer eyes than we poor mortals. Thine would deprive Mademoiselle of the crown and grace of suffering; His will uphold her amidst the fiery ordeal of tribulation. See to it, Nanon. Yield the child’s future up to the care of Him who is the loving Father of all.”
The clear tones had a sort of inspiring ring in them; the composed, benevolent countenance was illumined by the cheering light of faith and courage. Nanon hung her head. This philosophy, so high and pure, was beyond her comprehension; what she really craved was assurance of success.
“What you say is doubtless all true, M. le Superior, and it has the sound of beautiful language; it is suited to the quality, of that I am firmly convinced; but, faith of Nanon Benest, the heavenly glory is too fine, too far off for such as I. I would rather that other, me, that I could touch with the hands, and talk about, and let all the world see. Let Mam’selle Anne, who is ugly as a spider and cross as an enraged sheep, keep the first; I grudge it not. If M. le Superior will but give himself the trouble to consider, he will certainly perceive that no one thinks of the little one’s interests but her own poor servant Nanon. Madam la Marquise made the sacrifice of all when she left her own country, and it appears quite natural to her that others should do the same. The Sieur Le Ber adores Mademoiselle, but keeps steadily in mind his plans for ennobling his own family. M. Pierre would have her a saint and a martyr against her will, and now this English cuckoo has settled herself comfortably in Mademoiselle’s own nest in order to pick the feathers from her at her ease.”
“Thou wouldst undertake to play the part of Providence, and without having the means of doing so at thy disposal. Va, faithless one, it is well the good God should take the child’s destiny out of thy rash and reckless hands. What signifies the mode to him who goes to glory—the shorter cut from the battle-field or a little longer way through a world of trouble? Thy loyal affection will be to thee a crown, but thy pride will prove a thorn to prick thee to the heart, my poor girl.”
“Not that the most noble the demoiselle de Monesthrol could condescend to wed with the son of the bourgeois Le Ber”—Nanon hastened to qualify her rash admissions, and to vindicate her feminine right of having the last word; “but of right he should kneel humbly at her feet, thankful for a glance or a gracious word.”