M. Vulfran's tone was significant. Talouel could not misunderstand the sense of his words.
"I am taking her to live with me," continued M. Vulfran, "because I know that there are those who are trying to tempt her. She is not one to yield, but I do not intend that she should run any risk at their hands."
These words were said with even greater significance.
"She will stay with me altogether now," continued M. Vulfran. "She will work here in my office; during the day she will accompany me; she will eat at my table. I shall not be so lonesome at my meals, for her chatter will entertain me."
"I suppose she will give you all the satisfaction that you expect," remarked Talouel suavely.
"I suppose so also," replied his employer, very drily.
Meanwhile Perrine, leaning with her elbows on the window sill, looked out dreamily over the beautiful garden, at the factories beyond the village with its houses and church, the meadows in which the silvery water glistened in the oblique rays of the setting sun; and then her eyes turned in the opposite direction, to the woods where she had sat down the day she had come, and where in the evening breeze she had seemed to hear the soft voice of her mother murmuring, "I know you will be happy."
Her dear mother had foreseen the future, and the big daisies had also spoken true. Yes, she was beginning to be happy. She must be patient and all would come right in time. She need not hurry matters now. There was no poverty, no hunger or thirst, in this beautiful chateau where she had entered so quickly.
When the factory whistle announced the closing hour she was still standing at her window, deep in thought. The piercing whistle recalled her from the future to the present.
Along the white roads between the fields she saw a black swarm of workers, first a great compact mass, then gradually it grew smaller, as they dwindled off in different directions in groups towards their homes.