"Very well, my child, something must be done for her."
"Yes, mamma; do you think," and she hesitated—"do you think it would be a positive expense if Suzette were to be fed here? It seems to me that there is sufficient in the pantry...."
"I think, my dear, there is; there would only be the bread...."
"Oh, yes; but, mamma, they bake at home for the servants; would it be necessary to bake more on account of Suzette?"
"I think not, provided at least that you will not waste it as you are in the habit of doing, by cutting large slices to give to Turc, who ought to have only the fragments."
Ernestine promised, and Madame de Cideville consented to Suzette's being fed at the château, during her mother's illness. While now waiting for her dinner, Ernestine got her a piece of bread, to which she added, as it was the first time, a little gingerbread cake which she brought from her own room, as it belonged to her. In passing by Turc, who as soon as he saw her, came out of his kennel, and got as near to her as the length of his chain would permit, all the time wagging his tail and lowering his ears: "My poor Turc," said she, "you will have nothing now but the pieces." Nevertheless she begged Suzette to give him a bit of her bread, as a mark of friendship, and promised herself to go and look for some in the piece-basket, in order not to forfeit Turc's good graces.
She would carry the bundle of linen herself, although it was rather heavy. Fortunately, Marianne lived quite close to the château. On reaching her house, all flushed with pleasure as well as embarrassment, she said, "Here, Marianne, here is some old linen I have got for you."
"I assure you," said the nurse, "she was very anxious to bring it to you."
"It is very kind, Mademoiselle Ernestine," said one of the women who was there, "to come and comfort poor people."