CHAPTER X
IT wasn't long before Lalie's burns stopped paining and she became her merry little self again. Nevertheless, the fire had left its ineffaceable marks. Her hair grew out, her right cheek became white and normal again, but a great red scar remained on the left cheek and would never disappear. Her hands, too, the pretty little hands with the shapely nails, were covered with a new skin that was too smooth and without elasticity; the poor little fingers that used to be so nimble would never again open completely.
As for Madeleine, she didn't quite recover either from the shock. It was as if her heart had been scorched in the fire; part of it dried up and died off.
Except the children, everything became a matter of indifference to her. She had resumed her place at the helm. Without a word Michael submitted to her cold authority and felt more cowed in her presence than the farm-hands. She never put any ill-feeling into her speech with him, but sometimes, when he behaved most humbly and gently, the appalling memory flashed through her mind, and then she cast upon the young master with the fickle heart a look that was dry-eyed and unforgiving.
Winter came. Jo had the measles.