“Didn’t they?”
“Why, I understood that you did not believe them.”
“And where did Mademoiselle learn that? Did she follow the conversation?”
“No; but Lieutenant Danton––”
“He told you?”
She nodded. Menard frowned.
“He shouldn’t have done that.”
The maid looked surprised at his remark, and the smile left her face. “Of course, 72 M’sieu,” she said, a little stiffly, “whatever is not meant for my ears––”
Menard was still frowning, and he failed to notice her change in manner. He abruptly gave the conversation a new turn, but seeing after a short time that the maid had lost interest in his sallies, he rose, and called to the priest.
“Father, you are to have a new pupil. Mademoiselle also will study the language of the Iroquois. If you are quick enough with your pupils, we shall soon be able to hold a conversation each night about the fire. Perhaps, if you would forego your exclusive air, Mademoiselle would begin at once.”