"You see, he keeps saying"—she spoke very slowly—"that he witnessed a will the Seigneur made in favour of Monsieur Fournel. He thinks us interlopers, I suppose."
The Cure put a hand on hers gently. "There was a time when I felt that
Monsieur Fournel was the legal heir to the Seigneury, for Monsieur de la
Riviere had told me there was such a will; but since then I have changed
my mind. Your husband is the natural heir, and it is only just that the
Seigneury should go on in the direct line. It is best."
"Even with all Louis' mistakes?"
"Even with them. You have set them right, and you will keep him within the bounds of wisdom and prudence. You are his guardian angel, Madelinette."
She looked up at him with a pensive smile and a glance of gratitude.
"But suppose that will—if there is one—exists, see how false our position!"
"Do you think it is mere accident that the will has never been found—if it was not destroyed by the Seigneur himself before he died? No, there is purpose behind it, with which neither you or I or Louis have anything to do. Ah, it is good to have you here in this Seigneury, my child! What you give us will return to you a thousandfold. Do not regret the world and your work there. You will go back all too soon."
She was about to reply when the Seigneur again entered the room.
"I made up my mind that he should go at once, and so I've sent him word —the rat!"
"I will leave you two to be drowned in the depths of your own intelligence," said Madelinette; and taking her empty basket left the room.