The roads were filled with people, and the widow marched proudly along, escorted by her three suitors, taking an arm, first of one and then of another, and carrying her head high with an air of importance. She was eager to display the fourth to the eyes of the passers-by; but Germain felt so ridiculous to be dragged along in the train of a petticoat where all the world might see, that he kept at a respectable distance, chatting with Father Leonard, and succeeded in occupying his attention so well that they did not look at all as if they belonged to the party.
XII
The Master
When they reached the village, the widow halted to allow them to catch up. She was bent upon making her entry with all her train; but Germain, denying her this pleasure, deserted Father Leonard, and after conversing with several acquaintances, he entered the church by another door. The widow was vexed.
When mass was over, she made her appearance in triumph on the lawn, where dancing was going on, and she began her dance with her three lovers in turn. Germain watched her and saw that she danced well, but with affectation.
“So, you don’t ask my daughter?” said Leonard, tapping him on the shoulder. “You are too easily frightened.”
“I have not danced since I lost my wife,” answered the husbandman.
“But now that you are looking for another, mourning’s over in heart as well as in clothes.”
“That’s no reason, Father Leonard. Besides, I am too old and I don’t care for dancing.”