This Nancy was the count's former housekeeper.

After this awkward speech, the poor countess saw clearly enough what
position that woman had really held at the castle. She understood how,
modestly keeping in the background, and sheltering herself under the
very humility of her position, she had been in truth the intellect, the
energy, and the strong will, of her master. Her influence over him had,
besides, been so powerful, that it had survived her, and that she had
been obeyed even in the grave.

Although cruelly humiliated by this confession of her husband's, the
countess had sufficient self-control not to blame him for his weakness.
She said to herself,--

"Well, be it so. For his happiness and for our peace, I will stoop to
play the part Nancy played."

This was more easily said than done; for the count was not the man to be
led openly, nor was he willing to listen to good advice, simply because
it was good. Irritable, jealous, and despotic, like all weak men, he
dreaded nothing so much as what he called an insult to his authority.
He meant to be master everywhere, in every thing, and forever. He was so
sensitive on this point, that his wife had only to show the shadow of a
purpose of her own, and he went instantly to work to oppose and prohibit
it.

"I am not a weather-cock!" was one of his favorite sayings.

Poor fellow! He did not know that those who turn to the opposite side of
the wind, nevertheless turn, as well as those who go with the wind. The