Between the two, and considering all the circumstances, Sister Angélique came to the proper conclusion, and so reported the case to the Supérieure.
The latter had Fouchette brought before her. She was a very flabby and masculine woman, of great brains and keen penetration, and invariably had an oleaginous Jesuit priest at her elbow on important occasions to strengthen her religious standing and to give her decisions the force and effect of ecclesiastical law.
"Father Sébastien," said the Supérieure, "this is a grievous case. What are we to do with these girls that fight like tigers,—that set the whole blessed institution of Le Bon Pasteur by the ears?"
The Jesuit rubbed his hands, eying the slender figure before them curiously.
"A sad case,—a very sad case," he muttered; "and yet——"
"Mademoiselle Fouchette has been of good service to us, and——"
"And has invited this attack by her friendliness for the institution. No doubt,—no doubt at all," said the priest.
"But it is necessary to punish somebody," persisted the Supérieure, "else we shall lose control of these hot-heads."
"How about the other one? Mademoiselle——"
"Mademoiselle Angot——"