"But there is nothing else to be done."
"Oh, there must be. Why, you could not hide an infant in your house. Everything is known in the village,—and—I should not trust Jeanne overmuch."
"Madelon! Jeanne? She has been with us a life-time."
"Maybe, but she hates the Montenay more than she loves you and Mlle Marthe. Also, she is jealous of Madame here,—and—in fact, she has talked too much already."
"Then what is to be done?" asked Ange distractedly. She was trembling and unnerved. That a man's foes could be they of his own household, was one of those horrible truths which now came home to her for the first time. "Jeanne," she kept repeating; "no, it is not possible that Jeanne would do anything to harm us."
Madelon drew Aline aside.
"Jeanne is an old beast," she said frankly. "I always said so; but until the other day I did not think she was unfaithful. Now,—well, I only tell you that my father said she had given him 'valuable information.' What do you make of that, eh?"
"What you do," said Aline calmly.
"Well, then, what next?"
"What do you advise?"