She was especially touched by her guest's approbation of the wild blackberries preserved by herself.
"Little mother," said Gilberte, "you must send a specimen of your skill with your receipt to Madame Cardonnet, and perhaps she will send us in exchange some strawberry plants."
"Those great garden strawberries aren't good for anything," replied Janille; "they smell of nothing but water. I prefer our little mountain strawberries, so red and so fragrant. But that won't hinder my giving Monsieur Emile a big jar of my preserves for his mamma, if she will accept them."
"My mother wouldn't want to deprive you of them, my dear Mademoiselle Janille," Emile replied, especially touched by Gilberte's frank generosity, and mentally comparing the sincere kindly impulses of that poor family with the disdainful manners of his own.
"Oh," said Gilberte with a smile, "that won't be any deprivation to us. We have plenty of the fruit and we can begin again. Blackberries are not scarce with us, and if we don't look out, the bramble-bushes that bear them will pierce our walls and grow in our rooms."
"And whose fault is it," said Janille, "if we are overrun by brambles? Didn't I want to cut them all down? I certainly could have done it all without help from anybody if I had been let."
"But I protected the poor brambles against you, dear little mother! They make such pretty garlands around our ruins, that it would be a great pity to destroy them."
"I agree that they make a pretty effect," said Janille, "and that you can't find such fine bushes or such big berries within ten leagues!"
"You hear her, Monsieur Emile," said Monsieur Antoine. "That's Janille all over! There's nothing beautiful, good, useful or salutary that is not found at Châteaubrun. It's a saving grace."
"Pardine! complain, monsieur," retorted Janille; "yes, I advise you to complain of something!"