"You are quite right, Claudine. Here we are now at the rectory. Pray thank Madame Georges for me."
Then addressing the Goualeuse in a low tone, the curé said to her, in a grave voice:
"I must go to-morrow to the conference of the diocese, but I shall return at five o'clock. If you like, my child, I will wait for you at the rectory. I see your state of mind, and that you require a lengthened conversation with me."
"I thank you, father," replied Fleur-de-Marie. "To-morrow I will come, since you are so good as to allow me to do so."
"Here we are at the garden gate," said the priest. "Leave your basket there, Claudine; my housekeeper will take it. Return quickly to the farm with Marie, for it is almost night, and the cold is increasing. To-morrow, Marie, at five o'clock."
"To-morrow, father."
The abbé went into his garden. The Goualeuse and Claudine, followed by Turk, took the road to the farm.