'She is like a flower,' said Marie.
Now, they quickly found out that Céleste knew very little about the work she would have to do; it was because of this she had not yet found a mistress.
'I myself would delight to teach her,' cried the Russian lady.
'And I,' cried Marie. So Madame Verine took her home.
They taught Céleste many things. Marie taught her to cook and to sew; the Russian lady taught her to write and to cipher, and was surprised at the progress she made, especially in writing. Céleste was the more interesting to them because there was just a shade of sadness in her eye. One day she told Marie why she was sad; it was the story of Fernand, how he had used her ill.
'What a shame!' cried Marie, when the brief facts were repeated.
'It is the way of the country,' said the Russian lady. 'These Swiss peasants, who have so fair a reputation for sobriety, are mercenary above all: they have no heart.'
Céleste lived with Madame Verine for one year. At the end of that time Madame Verine arose one morning to find the breakfast was not cooked, nor the fire lit. In the midst of disorder stood Céleste, with flushed cheeks and startled eyes, and a letter in her hand.
'Ah, madam,' she faltered, 'what a surprise! The letter, it is from monsieur the notary, who lives in the market-place, and to me, madam—to me!'
When Madame Verine took the letter she found told therein that an aunt of Céleste, who had lived far off in the Jura, was dead, and had left to Céleste a little fortune of five thousand francs, which was to be paid to her when she was twenty-one, or on her marriage day.