"I shall not go either. Mr. Goulden is right," I replied.
I saw Aunt Grédel was displeased, she turned quite red, but was calm again in a moment, and added:
"Very well! Catherine and I will go, because we mock at all those old notions."
Father Goulden could not help smiling as he saw her anger.
"Yes, everybody is free," said he, "to do as he pleases, so do as you like."
Aunt Grédel took up her basket and went away, and he laughed and made a sign to me to go with her. I very quickly had my coat on and overtook her at the corner of the street.
"Listen, Joseph," said she, as she went toward the square, "Father Goulden is an excellent man, but he is an old fool! He has never since I knew him been satisfied with anything. He does not say so, but the Republic is always in his head. He thinks of nothing but his old Republic, when everybody was a sovereign—beggars, tinkers, soap-boilers, Jews, and Christians. There is no sense in it. But what are we to do? If he were not such an excellent man I would not care for him, but we must remember he has taught you a good trade, and done us all many favors, and we owe him great respect, that is why I hurried away, for I was inclined to be angry."
"You did right," I said, "I love Father Goulden like my father, and you like my mother, and nothing could give me so much pain as to see you angry with one another."
"I quarrel with a man like him!" said Aunt Grédel. "I would rather jump out of the window. No, no, but we need not listen to all he says, for I insist that this procession is a good thing for us, that the priest will get the permit for us, and that is the principal thing. Catherine and I will go, and as Mr. Goulden will stay at home, you had best stay too. But I am certain that three-fourths of the town and country round will go, and whether it be for Moreau or Pichegru or Cadoudal it is of no consequence. It will be very fine. You will see!"
"I believe you," I answered.