"And are you certain that there will not be any newspaper to print the judgment?""What won't they stoop to," exclaimed Madame Dupont--"those filthy journals!""Ah," said the other, "and see what a scandal? What a shame it would be to you!""The doctor is right, mother," exclaimed the young man.
But Madame Dupont was not yet convinced. "We will prevent the woman from taking any steps; we will give her what she demands from us.""But then," said the other, "you will give yourselves up to the risk of blackmail. I know a family which has been thus held up for over twelve years.""If you will permit me, Doctor," said George, timidly, "she could be made to sign a receipt.""For payment in full?" asked the doctor, scornfully.
"Even so."
"And then," added his mother, "she would be more than delighted to go back to her country with a full purse. She would be able to buy a little house and a bit of ground--in that country one doesn't need so much in order to live."At this moment there was a tap upon the door, and the nurse entered. She was a country woman, robust, rosy-cheeked, fairly bursting with health. When she spoke one got the impression that her voice was more than she could contain. It did not belong in a drawing-room, but under the open sky of her country home.
"Sir," she said, addressing the doctor, "the baby is awake.""I will go and see her," was the reply; and then to Madame Dupont, "We will take up this conversation later on.""Certainly," said the mother. "Will you have need of the nurse?""No, Madame," the doctor answered.
"Nurse," said the mother, "sit down and rest. Wait a minute, Iwish to speak to you." As the doctor went out, she took her son to one side and whispered to him, "I know the way to arrange everything. If we let her know what is the matter, and if she accepts, the doctor will have nothing more to say. Isn't that so?""Obviously," replied the son.
"I am going to promise that we will give her two thousand francs when she goes away, if she will consent to continue nursing the child.""Two thousand francs?" said the other. "Is that enough?""I will see," was the reply. "If she hesitates, I will go further. Let me attend to it."George nodded his assent, and Madame Dupont returned to the nurse. "You know," she said, "that our child is a little sick?"The other looked at her in surprise. "Why no, ma'am!""Yes," said the grandmother.
"But, ma'am, I have taken the best of care of her; I have always kept her proper.""I am not saying anything to the contrary," said Madame Dupont, "but the child is sick, the doctors have said it."The nurse was not to be persuaded; she thought they were getting ready to scold her. "Humph," she said, "that's a fine thing--the doctors! If they couldn't always find something wrong you'd say they didn't know their business.""But our doctor is a great doctor; and you have seen yourself that our child has some little pimples.""Ah, ma'am," said the nurse, "that's the heat--it's nothing but the heat of the blood breaking out. You don't need to bother yourself; I tell you it's only the child's blood. It's not my fault; I swear to you that she had not lacked anything, and that I have always kept her proper.""I am not reproaching you--"
"What is there to reproach me for? Oh, what bad luck! She's tiny--the little one--she's a bit feeble; but Lord save us, she's a city child! And she's getting along all right, I tell you.""No," persisted Madame Dupont, "I tell you--she has got a cold in her head, and she has an eruption at the back of the throat.""Well," cried the nurse, angrily, "if she has, it's because the doctor scratched her with that spoon he put into her mouth wrong end first! A cold in the head? Yes, that's true; but if she has caught cold, I can't say when, I don't know anything about it--nothing, nothing at all. I have always kept her well covered;she's always had as much as three covers on her. The truth is, it was when you came, the time before last; you were all the time insisting upon opening the windows in the house!""But once more I tell you," cried Madame Dupont, "we are not putting any blame on you.""Yes," cried the woman, more vehemently. "I know what that kind of talk means. It's no use--when you're a poor country woman.""What are you imagining now?" demanded the other.
"Oh, that's all right. It's no use when you're a poor country woman.""I repeat to you once more," cried Madame Dupont, with difficulty controlling her impatience, "we have nothing whatever to blame you for."But the nurse began to weep. "If I had known that anything like this was coming to me--""We have nothing to blame you for," declared the other. "We only wish to warn you that you might possibly catch the disease of the child."The woman pouted. "A cold in the head!" she exclaimed. "Well, if I catch it, it won't be the first time. I know how to blow my nose.""But you might also get the pimples."
At this the nurse burst into laughter so loud that the bric-a-brac rattled. "Oh, oh, oh! Dear lady, let me tell you, we ain't city folks, we ain't; we don't have such soft skins.
What sort of talk is that? Pimples--what difference would that make to poor folks like us? We don't have a white complexion like the ladies of Paris. We are out all day in the fields, in the sun and the rain, instead of rubbing cold cream on our muzzles! No offense, ma'am--but I say if you're looking for an excuse to get rid of me, you must get a better one than that.""Excuse!" exclaimed the other. "What in the world do you mean?""Oh, I know!" said the nurse, nodding her head.
"But speak!"
"It's no use, when you're only a poor country woman.""I don't understand you! I swear to you that I don't understand you!""Well," sneered the other, "I understand."
"But then--explain yourself."
"No, I don't want to say it."
"But you must; I wish it."
"Well--"
"Go ahead."
