Even the village children knew to whom to run when hurt, or
unhappy, or in disgrace, sure of getting consolation and
sugar-plums from the sad, lonely woman, though equally sure of
being sent away as soon as their tears were dried, and their
troubles forgotten. If the poor, abused Ugly Duckling of Hans
Andersen's tale had strayed on a wintry day to her door, she
would have taken it in, and nourished, and cherished it all
through the cold, dark weather; but when the summer was come,
and the duckling grown into a swan, spread its broad white
wings against the blue sky, she would have watched it fly away
without word or sign to detain it; she would have had nothing
in common with it then.
So to Jeanne-Marie it seemed the simplest thing in the world,
that, having found Madelon in need of help, she should help
her at the cost of any trouble to herself; that she should
take in, and cherish this poor little stray girl without
inquiry, without hope, or thought of reward. At Madelon,
happy, successful, contented, Jeanne-Marie would not have
looked a second time; but for Madelon, forsaken, shelterless,
dependent on her, she would have been ready almost to lay down
her life.
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