“Madame, perhaps, does not understand the feeling for art which—”
“No, I don’t,” vigorously replied Madame Michot, “but I know, as I tell you, what waits for a girl like this, poor and handsome and ignorant, in Paris, and—”
“My position madam, as director—”
“My profession, sir, of keeping an inn, has taught me to know human nature.”
The altercation grew warmer, Bess and Roger remaining silent. At last, when Madame Michot’s usually placid voice rose to a high key, and Monsieur Mazet used some ugly words, Roger interfered politely, and proposed to lay the two propositions before Bess. This was agreed to by both combatants, upon condition that he offered no advice. Bess listened gravely while he explained to her in English all that Monsieur Mazet and Madame Michot had been saying, and then she replied promptly,—
“Would I rather go to Paris and learn to be a singer in the King’s Opera, or would I rather stay here and wash linen? Why, Master Roger, I would rather go to Paris; and if Madame Michot or that gentleman thinks I can’t take care of myself, show you them that scar I left on your skull.”
“But I would not advise you to go until you learn something of the French tongue,” said Roger, pledged not to advise, but eager to protect her.
“Right. I always said you had some brains under your curly hair. Now say to them that I will stay here and work for a couple of months, until I learn to know what people are saying to me; and after that, if the gentleman will come and fetch me, I will go to Paris and learn to sing in the King’s Opera.”
This Solomonic decision had the uncommon effect of pleasing both parties to the controversy.
Madame Michot considered, if she saved the brand for two months from the burning, she could save it altogether; while Monsieur Mazet had no doubt whatever that two months’ experience of the drudgery of a village inn would secure his prize for Paris. Roger, too, was pleased with the decision, which showed the strong good sense that Bess usually displayed in practical affairs.