Half an hour afterwards, Madame Georges and Marie were on their way to Arnouville, in one of those large, roomy cabriolets, in use among the rich farmers in the environs of Paris; and briskly did their comfortable vehicle, drawn by a stout Norman horse, roll over the grassy road which led from Bouqueval to Arnouville. The extensive buildings and numerous appendages to the farm, tenanted by M. Dubreuil in the latter village, bore testimony to the wealth and importance of the property bestowed as a marriage-portion on Mlle. Césarine de Noirmont upon her union with the Duke de Lucenay.
The loud crack of Pierre's whip apprised Madame Dubreuil of the arrival of her friend, Madame Georges, with Fleur-de-Marie, who were most affectionately greeted by Clara and her mother. Madame Dubreuil was a good-looking woman of middle age, with a countenance expressive of extreme gentleness and kindness; while her daughter Clara was a handsome brunette, with rich hazel eyes, and a happy, innocent expression for ever resting on her full, rosy lips, which seemed never to open but to utter words of sweetness and amiability. As Clara eagerly threw her arms around her friend's neck as she descended the vehicle, the Goualeuse saw with extreme surprise that the kind-hearted girl had laid aside her more fashionable attire, and was habited as a simple country maiden.
"Why, Clara!" said Madame Georges, affectionately returning her embrace, "what is the meaning of this strange costume?"
"It is done in imitation and admiration of her sister Marie," answered Madame Dubreuil; "I assure you she let me have no peace till I had procured her a woollen bodice, and a fustian skirt exactly resembling your Marie's. But, now we are talking of whims and caprices, just come this way with me," added Madame Dubreuil, drawing a deep sigh, "while I explain to you my present difficulty, as well as the cause of my so abruptly summoning you hither; but you are so kind, I feel assured you will not only forgive it, but also render me all the assistance I require."
Following Madame Georges and her mother to their sitting-room, Clara lovingly conducted the Goualeuse also thither, placing her in the warmest corner of the fireside, and tenderly chafing her hands to prevent the cold from affecting her; then fondly caressing her, and styling her again and again her very dear sister Marie, she playfully reproached her for allowing so long an interval to pass away without paying her a visit. After the recent conversation which passed between the poor Goualeuse and the curé (no doubt fresh in the reader's memory), it will easily be believed that these tender marks of affection inspired the unfortunate girl with feelings of deep humility, combined with a timid joy.
"Now, then, dear Madame Dubreuil," said Madame Georges, when they were comfortably seated, "do pray tell me what has happened, and in what manner I can be serviceable to you."
"Oh, in several ways! I will tell you exactly how. In the first place, I believe you are not aware that this farm is the private property of the Duchesse de Lucenay, and that we are accountable to her alone, having nothing whatever to do with the duke or his steward."
"No, indeed, I never heard that before."
"Neither should I have troubled you with so unimportant a matter now, but that it forms a necessary part of the explanation I am about to give you of my present pressing need of your kind services. You must know, then, that we consider ourselves as the tenants of Madame de Lucenay, and always pay our rent either to herself or to Madame Simon, her head femme de chambre; and, really, spite of some little impetuosity of temper, Madame la Duchesse is so amiable that it is delightful to have business with her. Dubreuil and I would go through fire and water to serve her: but, la! that is only natural, considering we have known her from her very cradle, and were accustomed to see her playing about as a child during the visits she used annually to pay to the estate during the lifetime of her late father, the Prince de Noirmont. Latterly she has asked for her rent in advance. Forty thousand francs is not 'picked up by the roadside,' as the old proverb says; but happily we had laid that sum by as Clara's dowry, and the very next morning after the request reached us we carried madame her money in bright, shining, golden louis. These great ladies spend so much, you see, in luxuries such as you and I have no idea of. Yet it is only within the last twelvemonth Madame de Lucenay has wished to be paid beforehand, she used always to seem as though she had plenty of money; but things are very different now."
"Still, my dear Madame Dubreuil, I do not yet perceive in what way I can possibly assist you."