Céline stammered: "Oh, it was only gossip, mademoiselle; nothing worth repeating, I assure you."
The curiosity and jealousy of the spinster were fully aroused. "Don't attempt any subterfuges, Céline," she said, in her loftiest tone. "I desire to know what was said of my—Mr. Percy."
The girl arose to her feet, and with much apparent reluctance, replied:
"They said, mademoiselle—of course, it was only gossip—that he was very much of a fortune-hunter, and that he was engaged to some woman much older than himself, who was immensely rich."
Miss Arthur sat down and looked hard at her maid. "How do you know that Mr. Percy is that man?"
"Oh! I don't know, my lady—mademoiselle. I only said that I thought I have seen him in Baltimore; the Mr. Percy they used to talk of there, must have been another."
Miss Arthur looked like an ancient Sphinx. "Do you think that Mr. Percy is that man?" she asked.
"Merci! my lady, how can I tell that? It might have been he; and the old woman there might have disappointed him, you know," artlessly.
Miss Arthur was literally speechless with rage. Without replying, she rose and swept into the adjoining room, closing the door behind her with a bang.
Céline smiled comfortably, and went to minister unto Cora, to whom she confided her belief that Miss Arthur was dissatisfied with her, and meant to discharge her. "And only think, madame," she said plaintively, "it is all because, in an unguarded moment, I compared her to an old woman. It is so hard to remember, always, that you must not tell an old woman she is not young."