"But why shouldn't we avoid fighting? What is there to fight for?
You are all very happy here. You were very happy here before Monsieur
Valmond came. Are you happy now?"
Madame Chalice's eyes searched the flushed face anxiously. She was
growing more eager every moment to serve, if she could, this splendid
creature.
"We would die for him!" answered the girl quickly.
"You would die for him," came the reply, slowly, meaningly.
"And what's it to you, if I would?" came the sharp retort. "Why do you
fine folk meddle yourselves with poor folk's affairs?"
Then, remembering she was a hostess, with the instinctive courtesy of her
race, she said: "Ah, pardon, madame; you meant nothing, I'm sure."
"Why should fine folk make poor folk unhappy?" said Madame Chalice,
quietly and sorrowfully, for she saw that Elise was suffering, and all
the woman in her came to her heart and lips. She laid her hand on the
girl's arm. "Indeed yes, why should fine folk make poor folk unhappy?
It is not I alone who makes you unhappy, Elise.
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