"I am going to take your young mistress home with me, Lisette," again remarked the baroness. "It would not be well to leave her here, amid the turmoil of recruiting and the clashing of weapons, would it?"
"I can't say. My business is in the kitchen; I don't know anything about matters out of it," replied Lisette, still shuffling her cards.
"But I intend to take you out of the kitchen, Lisette," returned the baroness. "I don't intend to let you work any more. You shall live with us over at the manor, in a room of your own, and, if you wish, have a little kitchen all to yourself, and a little maid to wait on you. You will come with us, will you not?"
"I thank your ladyship; but I had rather stay where I am."
"But why?"
"Because I should be a trouble to everybody over yonder. I am a person that suits only herself. I don't know how to win the good will of other people. I don't keep a cat or a dog, because I don't want to love anything. Besides, I have many disagreeable habits. I use snuff, and I can't agree with anybody. I am best left to myself, your ladyship."
"But what will become of you when both your master and mistress are gone from the castle?"
"I shall do what I have always done, your ladyship. The Herr Count promised that I should never want for anything to cook so long as I lived."
"Don't misunderstand me, Lisette. I did not ask how you intended to live. What I meant was, how are you going to get on when you do not see or hear any one—when you are all alone here?"
"I am not afraid to be alone. I have no money, and I don't think anybody would undertake to carry me off! I am never lonely. I can't read,—for which I thank God!—so that never bothers me. I don't like to knit; for ever since I saw those terrible women sitting around the guillotine and knitting, knitting, knitting all day long, I can't bear to see the motion of five needles. So I just amuse myself with these cards; and I don't need anything else."