“I did not say so. Perhaps I meant because of a heart of gold.”
“Merci, monsieur. I like that better than if you had said as truly lovely.”
“I meant that, too.”
“It strikes me,” said Alaine, slyly, “that one should not put honey in pot à feu.”
“Let us have, then—what shall we say?”
“A smack of gossip which we will call herbs for smart flavor; I will repeat that I do not trust M. Dupont, and you can contradict me if you will. I tell you this because I do not want to say so to Gerard, who is too fiery, nor to Papa Louis, who would call me an alarmist, nor to Mère Michelle, who would be seized with affright. But remember, if anything happens, that I said this. Ah, here we come to the rock where we rest. I see the clump of cedars quite plainly. You shall have a taste of Mère Michelle’s good bread for your pretty compliments.”
They were not long in reaching the spot which invariably served as the resting-place for the church-goers, and from there they travelled on to Collect Pond, where the dusty feet were bathed, the shoes and stockings put on, and the journey considered as nearly over. The neighborhood of the French church in Marketfield Street was alive with the crowds of those who had come from Long Island, Staten Island, and New Rochelle. Many had passed the night in the “cars,” and had eaten their breakfast in these same wagons, to be ready for the long service before the last stragglers should have arrived.
“And are you so very fatigued, my pigeon?” asked Papa Louis, as Alaine, a little pale, but still keeping up her energetic walk, approached the church.
“I am a little tired,” she returned, “but I am here, and I shall have time to rest. Ah-h!” she gave a little start. “See there, papa, M. Dupont is talking to M. Allaire. I trust he will not see us.”
To Alaine’s relief M. Dupont did not discover her. She kept a sharp eye out during the period of intermission, when a cheerful chatter was kept up by those who visited around from group to group. It was a great event, this communion service on special Sundays, and meant not only the enjoyment of free worship, but a gathering of friends and an exchange of visits; a day’s pleasuring, in fact, for they enjoyed it all, from the hearty singing of the psalms and the long sermon to the arrival home after the toilsome journey.