“Comtois. He had excellent recommendations.”
Madame de Noirmont smiled at the serious tone in which her daughter spoke.
“My dear girl,” she replied, “I know that we may rely on Comtois.—What is your new maid’s name?”
“Louise—Louise Fré—Frénet—I never can remember her other name. But no matter, she’s a very nice girl, I tell you, mamma; I am sure that you will like her too. I am going to call her, to show her to you. She’s very shy, that is why she hasn’t come to pay her respects to you.”
“Mon Dieu! my dear love, I have plenty of time to see your maid; there is no hurry about it.”
“Oh, yes! I want you to see her right away, mamma.”
Ernestine rang a bell; in a moment the door opened and Louise appeared in the doorway, timid and with downcast eyes.
“Did madame ring for me?” she murmured.
Madame de Noirmont scrutinized the girl, whom she then saw for the first time; she was struck by her beauty, by the dignified expression of her features, by her modest and reserved demeanor, by her whole aspect, which was not what one ordinarily sees in a lady’s maid. She could not tire of looking at her.
Ernestine leaned toward her mother and whispered: