I saw at once that I was wrong, and I replied: "Mr. Goulden, we will leave our windows open and it will be seen that we have watches to sell, and that will do no harm to any one."
We were no sooner at table than Aunt Grédel and Catherine came. Catherine was dressed entirely in black, on account of the service for Louis XVI. She had a pretty little bonnet of black tulle, and her dress was very nicely made, and this set off her delicate red and white complexion and made her look so beautiful that I could hardly believe that she was Joseph Bertha's beloved; her neck was white as snow, and had it not been for her lips and her rosy little chin, her blue eyes and golden hair, I should have thought that it was some one who resembled her, but who was more beautiful. She laughed when she saw how much I admired her, and at last I said: "Catherine, you are too beautiful now; I dare not kiss you."
"Oh! you need not trouble yourself," said she.
As she leaned upon my shoulder I gave her a long kiss, so that Aunt Grédel and Mr. Goulden looked on and laughed, and I wished them far enough away, that I might tell Catherine that I loved her more and more, and that I would give my life a thousand times for her; but as I could not do that before them, I only thought of these things and was sad.
Aunt had a black dress on also, and her prayer-book was under her arm.
"Come, kiss me too, Joseph; you see I too have a black dress, like Catherine's."
I embraced her, and Mr. Goulden said, "You will come and dine with us—that is understood; but, meanwhile you will take something, will you not?"
"We have breakfasted," replied Aunt Grédel.
"That is nothing; God knows when this procession will end, you will be all the time on your feet, and will need something to sustain you."
Then they sat down, Aunt Grédel on my right, and Catherine on my left, and Father Goulden opposite. They drank a good glass of wine, and aunt said the procession would be very fine, and that there were at least twenty-five priests from the neighborhood round; that Mr. Hubert, the pastor of Quatre Vents, had come, and that the grand altar in the cavalry quarter was higher than the houses; that the pine-trees and poplars around had crape on them, and that the altar was covered with a black cloth. She talked of everything under the sun, while I looked at Catherine, and we thought, without saying anything, "Oh! when will that beggarly minister write and say, 'Get married and leave me alone?'"