Good People
Note: In canon, the villagers all think that the Thenardiers are really good people for taking in Cosette.
In 1820, Madame Bonnette's sister came to visit.
Madame Simon had never been to Montfermeil and Madame Bonnette took great pleasure in showing her all around the town. Madame Simon had been making all the appropriate noises when a small and rather wretched creature crossed their path.
"I say!" Madame Simon exclaimed, drawing back and stopping. "What is that?"
Madame Bonnette glanced over at the thing. It was too pale, too skinny, and hunched over a large bucket of water. There was something wrong about it and if it hadn't been for the fearful air that the creature gave off it would have appeared as some sort of monster in the night. "That's the lark."
"The lark?" Madame Simon asked, her brow furrowing.
"That's not her real name, that's Colette or Cosette or something like that," Madame Bonnette said, waving her hand disinterestedly. "But we all call her the lark."
"Why?" Madame Simon asked.
Madame Bonnette shrugged. "I don't know. I do it because everyone else calls her that. It fits though, doesn't it? Mind you, I've never seen a lark half that ugly."
"What's wrong with her?" Madame Simon asked in horrified fascination.
The two of them continued their walk.
"Her mother abandoned her maybe two or three years ago," Madame Bonnette gossiped.
Madame Simon gasped. "Really? She just left her here?"
"She did," Madame Bonnette confirmed. "I had it straight from Madame Thénardier herself! She said that the lark's mother stayed the night and snuck off in the middle of the night and left the child behind!"
"Oh that's dreadful!" Madame Simon exclaimed. "I don't suppose she paid for the room, either?"
Madame Bonnette shook her head. "No, she didn't. Some people are just monsters, abandoning their own child like that."
"I don't know what's wrong with some people," Madame Simon said sanctimoniously, shaking her head. "I couldn't possibly abandon either of my two!"
"Nor could I my three!" Madame Bonnette concurred.
"So she's living on the streets, is she? Awfully young for that but it would explain why she looks so frightful," Madame Simon said thoughtfully.
"She doesn't, actually, though that is what you'd expect, isn't it?" Madame Bonnette asked rhetorically.
"Oh?"
"The Thénardiers took her in, gave her a place to stay," Madame Bonnette explained.
Madame Simon hesitated.
"Oh, do go on," Madame Bonnette encouraged.
"It's just…she looks so…ragged," Madame Simon said uncertainly.
"Ah, I see your concern," Madame Bonnette said sagely. "I agree that the situation is not ideal. If it were ideal then the girl's mother never would have abandoned her like this in the first place! The Thénardiers are not rich, you see. They work hard but not a lot of people come here looking for an inn so they are always in debt. They never complain, though, and somehow always manage to scrape just enough together to survive."
That changed the matter considerably. Madame Simon's eyes widened. "And they still took in an abandoned child?"
Madame Bonnette nodded. "Yes, the Thénardiers are truly good people."
"Good people or not, if they can't afford to raise a child then they can't afford to raise a child," Madame Simon said practically.
"That's what I told them!" Madame Bonnette exclaimed. "Especially what with them having two little girls of their own. And they're having another!"
Madame Simon just shook her head. "Two children of their own and soon to be a third? And they still take in that lark? Oh, how good they must be!"
"They are," Madame Bonnette agreed. "It is one thing to be kind if you have a lot of money. Kindness is always kindness but it is easier. When you have so little as the Thénardiers do and are still willing to shelter another poor soul…I do not know how they do it."
"And their real children?" Madame Simon asked. "How do they fare? Are they as wretched as she?"
"Mercifully no," Madame Bonnette reassured her. "Éponine and Azelma are actually quite charming children, all rosy-cheeks and shining hair."
Madame Simon frowned. "But then I do not understand. If the Thénardier children are perfectly healthy and happy then why is the other child so…not?"
"As I said, there really isn't very much money at all," Madame Bonnette confided. "Frankly, it is a miracle that those poor children look as well as they do! The Thénardiers really are barely making ends meet. Could they spend more money on the lark? I'm sure they could but there is no more money to spend. Every extra scrap of food they could feed her is food they are literally taking from the mouths of their girls. Every nicer piece of clothing comes off of the backs of their children. Can you really blame them for balking at the idea of punishing their own children and making them go without?"
Madame Simon shook her head. "Of course not! But it is so sad to see a poor little child looking like that…"
"I quite agree," Madame Bonnette said, nodding firmly. "And her mother should be ashamed!"
Madame Simon nodded her agreement and for a moment the two stood united in righteous anger.
"They do the best they can but you know that she's not their real child," Madame Bonnette continued. "Her mother did not see fit to provide for her and the Thénardiers give her a place to stay and food so that she's not starving on the streets. It's not ideal but they are already taking away from their children to provide even that much and they have so little."
Madame Simon sighed heavily. "What a burden they are undertaking! And they never complain, you say?"
"Never," Madame Bonnette confirmed.
"Oh, what good people they are!" Madame Simon exclaimed, clasping her hands together over her heart. "That poor child…I hope she realizes how lucky she is to have them."
"That's the worst part, I don't think she does," Madame Bonnette told her, lowering her voice.
"Really?"
"Oh yes," Madame Bonnette went on, nearly grinning. "She seems rather miserable. She doesn't seem to at all appreciate the kindness shown to her."
"What ingratitude!" Madame Simon cried out with just the right degree of indignation.
"Well," Madame Bonnette said tolerantly, "I suppose that's the fault of the Thénardiers. They've kept her so sheltered and well-taken care of that she has no idea what her fate could have been and by all rights should be."
"Ah," Madame Simon said knowingly. "People always find something to complain about and if they have no real problems then they make them up. It's like how my Pierre is always complaining that he doesn't like my cooking."
"Nonsense!" Madame Bonnette objected immediately, just as she was meant to. "Your cooking is wonderful!"
Madame Simon smiled broadly. "Thank you, sister."
"I do hate to see ingratitude, especially in children since it teaches them bad habits," Madame Bonnette declared. "But perhaps it is for the best. The Thénardiers did not tell her for a reason and they clearly felt that she does not need to learn what true suffering is."
Madame Simon's heart lifted. "It does the soul good to know that there are still people like that in the world."