CHAPTER VI
SO next day, after market, Madeleine went to the savings bank to draw out twenty francs, out of which she bought, at a town shop, a doll that was much grander than the one at Mme. Blanchevirain's.
Coming back home, she took the Saint-Ambroise road. As she passed through the village she saw through an open window two young seamstresses laughing as they worked. A little behind them she saw another girl, a tall one, standing very straight, scissors in hand; and on her breast there hung a new and shining little watch.
Madeleine's heart heaved with anger.
"She's got it! She got it already! When I meet her, I'll tell her what I think of her! I'll teach her, I will, to rob Lalie and Jo!"
That very evening she watched out for Violette, who had to pass by the Moulinettes on her way home to Chantepie. But all for nothing; neither that evening nor the next nor the next did Violette come by.
But on Friday evening, as Madeleine was picking vegetables in the garden, she heard voices on the road; she straightened up and recognised the two girl helpers, who came along chattering and seemingly having great fun over something. She let them get out of sight before she stepped to the roadside.
"Well, now!" she mumbled.
At a turning a short distance back, Violette was standing before Michael, her head bent flirtatiously.
"All right," said Madeleine, I'll wait for her a bit farther on."
She withdrew noiselessly, went back to the house, glanced at the children and ran out the back way toward the pond.
She didn't have to wait long. Violette came on at a swift pace, hurrying to overtake her girl helpers. When she was close enough, Madeleine climbed over a low fence and posted herself in the middle of the road.
"Good evening, Mademoiselle Violette!"
"Good evening," replied the dressmaker, turning a bit to one side so as to pass by quickly.
Madeleine went on:
"You seem to be in a hurry!"
"So I am."
"There's something I want to say to you, though."
"You? To me?"
"Yes—and I'm not doing this for my own pleasure, and maybe it won't be for yours either."
"You don't say!" said Violette, standing still.
She said: "You don't say!" and gave a short, dry, mocking laugh. Her eyes glanced over Madeleine from head to foot, with such insolence that Madeleine asked rather angrily:
"Why are you looking me over like that? Doesn't my skirt fit me?"
"Oh, beautifully! It's quite even all round. My grandmother used to wear one just like it, and she'd inherited it."
"You've got a quick tongue!"
"At your service."
For quite a while they looked each other straight in the eye; then Violette threw back her pretty, insolent head:
"May I ask, in turn, what you're finding about me that isn't to your taste?"
Madeleine answered:
"I was looking at your watch. I think it's pretty."
"Would you like to see it closer?"
"Thank you, no; I can see it very well; it's a new-fangled watch; it isn't an heirloom like your grandmother's skirt."
"You said that very neatly!—but whether it's new-fangled or not is none of your business."
"I beg your pardon! I happen to know when you got that watch and who gave it to you!—And you needn't play the artless either, my dear!"
Violette was taken aback; color rose to her cheeks and her thin white nostrils quivered.
"Well, and what of it?"
"You haven't got much self-respect!" said Madeleine. "That watch and those rings you're wearing—you never paid for them!"
The girl tossed her head and her laugh came sharp as the crack of a whip.
"Indeed I did!" she said. "I paid for them!"
Madeleine gasped.
"Aren't you ashamed of yourself? You've committed a grievous sin!—If your mother heard you!"
But she saw that impudence was sovereign in the girl's black eyes and, knowing that all admonition would be wasted, she changed her tone.
"From now on, you'll leave my brother alone! Since nothing will hold you back, neither shame, nor religion"
Violette broke in, trying to down her speech:
"Religion! I've got as much religion as you have, any day! You're a fine one to boast about your religion! Better go and be baptised, first!"
"… and since you don't care about your mother's feelings, I'll keep my eye on you! Now, listen to me! If you start again leading him on, I'll mete you out your punishment myself!—Oh, you may laugh!"
"Indeed! What was that you said? You'll mete me out my punishment? I'd like to know how! Maybe you'll beat me up?—You've got the muscle to do it, all right—and the face!—No?—you won't beat me up?—Well then, how will you go about it?"
Yes, how would she go about it? Madeleine felt confused by the girl's insolent stare. However, she managed to say:
"I'll begin by warning my brother; I'll tell him of your behaviour."
"He probably knows it better than you!"
"I'll tell him that on the very day he gave you that watch you listened to another suitor; I'll tell him that a while ago I saw you with Michael Corbier."
"Ah, now we're coming to the point!" cried Violette. "You're jealous! Why didn't you say so right away?"
"You're wrong. Leave my brother in peace and, for all of me, you can go your own way where it suits you. But if you worry him again"
"You'll spy on me!—You'll use every means of running me down to your master!—I know why!"
Violette had come close; her expression was so vicious that it made her pretty face quite ugly.
"Others have been jealous of me before, but never yet a monkey-face like you!"
Madeleine let this pass without much resentment. Violette came closer still and said, with her evil laugh:
"Listen to me! You're not up to this game!—Since nothing will hold you back—that's the way you talk, isn't it?—since nothing will hold you back, neither shame nor religion nor the fear of your mother, I'll mete you out your punishment myself! To begin with, you'd better get used to the idea of leaving the Moulinettes."
Madeleine's face went white and her hands crept up to her throat.
"What do you say? What do you dare to say?"
"You needn't take on and start yelling like that! I'm being very nice about it—I'm giving you a month's notice, before All-Saints—That leaves you plenty of time to look for another place."
"But you don't know—you can't imagine"
"Oh, yes, don't you fear! I know, I can imagine; and that's just why I'll make you leave. Perhaps it'll teach you to mind your own business."
Madeleine stammered, strangling:
"No, you're wrong, it isn't what you think—I'm not jealous, God knows!—It's on account of the children.—Oh, you couldn't be so wicked!"
"The children? Bah, what nonsense!—You're not their mother; you're nothing to them.—What's the matter? Are you going to beat me?"
"Shut up!—Mademoiselle Violette, you shut up!"
"Mademoiselle Violette, at present!—But you can't budge me! You'll get out, my dear, and when you're out, you'll never see either father or children again!—I'll have the house forbidden to you!"
"Ah! I wish I could throttle you, you wicked thing!"
Madeleine threw out her hands.—But the girl walked away holding her glossy little head erect, like a viper.
"Madeleine Clarandeau, you started this, and you'll be sorry!—I'll see that you remember me."
Then she mumbled to herself:
"Well, my good Boiseriot, who thought she was going to give so much trouble,—who stopped at nothing to fling mud at her,—you'll thank me for this day's work!"