And Gaspard sprang over and caught her in his arms. He was filled with pity. He was all gentleness.
"Are you sick?" he asked.
"It was the odor of the horses," Susette replied in her small voice.
Joseph the carter seemed to take this as some aspersion on himself. "Those horses don't smell," he asserted stoutly.
But Gaspard signaled him to hold his place. "You'll be all right in a second or so," he told his wife. He spoke gently; although, as a matter of fact, he himself could find nothing about those magnificent animals to offend the most delicate sensibility. "You'll be all right. You can come into the forge and sit down while I shoe the big gray."
"That will be worse than ever," wailed Susette.
Joseph the carter was an outspoken man, gruff and honest.
"And there's a woman for you," he said, "to be not only wed but welded to a smith! Nom d'un tonnerre! Say, then, Gaspard, I'm in a hurry. Shall we start with the gray?"
"Yes," Gaspard answered softly, as he continued to support Susette.