One afternoon, when Honorine was sitting alone under the great walnut tree by the roadside, she suddenly heard piercing shrieks not far away. They evidently proceeded from a child’s lips, and the young woman, thinking that someone might be in need of assistance, hastened down the hill, and saw, some two hundred yards away, a woman on horseback striking with her crop a small boy in whom Honorine instantly recognized the one who had stolen her cherries.
The appearance of a lady on the scene did not calm Thélénie’s wrath; she continued to belabor the lost child, exclaiming: “Ah! you won’t stand aside when I tell you to look out, won’t you? You make signs to show that you aren’t afraid of me, and you make faces at me! You little blackguard, I’ll teach you to know me and respect me!”
When he caught sight of Madame Dalmont, little Emile ran to her for protection, still making a great outcry, in which there was at least as much anger as pain.
The amazon would have ridden after him, but Honorine barred her way.
“Mon Dieu!” she said, “what has this child done to you, madame, that you should punish him so severely?”
Thélénie eyed Honorine insolently as she retorted:
“What has he done to me? what business is it of yours? If I horsewhip him, it’s because I choose to do it, and because he deserves it. What are you meddling for?”
“Meddling—when I defend a child who is being beaten! Evidently, madame, you would see a child overwhelmed with blows without thinking of defending him!”
“What does this mean? that madame is pleased to give me a lesson, perhaps?”
“I might well give you a lesson in politeness, I fancy; for you adopt a tone which is very little in harmony with your costume.”