"I want a watering-pot and I think I could find one in that little house."
"No, Rosalie, there is no watering-pot there."
Prudent's voice trembled so in pronouncing these words that Rosalie looked up with surprise, and saw that his face was pale and his forehead bathed in perspiration.
"What is the matter, father?" said she, alarmed.
"Nothing, daughter, nothing."
"It was my asking for the key which agitated you so violently, father. What does this little house contain which frightens you so much?"
"Rosalie, Rosalie! you do not know what you are saying. Go and look for your watering-pot in the green-house."
"But, father, what is there in the little garden-house?"
"Nothing that can interest you, Rosalie."
"But why do you go there every day without permitting me to go with you?"