“Is that so, Mademoiselle Spitfire! Well, I shall do as I like. When I wish to ride inside I shall do so, and when I don’t, I won’t!” Then he had gone on calmly with his omelette.
They thundered into the forest and its spicy fragrance greeted them. The air was cool there, and the dim wood paths seemed like fairy paths to Marie Josephine. It was so peaceful that it made them all think of Pigeon Valley. They grew more cheerful right away, and even Madame le Pont remarked that it was delightful to think of seeing Les Vignes again. She had purchased some fruit at the inn and Denise held a bunch of amber-colored grapes high above Cécile’s head and said, “Bite one!” Madame le Pont remarked, “That is not the way a young lady conducts herself!” but she did not seem to be really shocked at all.
Hortense yawned and put her head back on the cushions, her curls falling about her shoulders.
“You look like a little girl to-day, Hortense. I thought you looked such a very grand young lady when you danced the minuet with Lisle the night before last.” They were still driving through the woods and every now and then a startled bird would make a great stir in the trees or underbrush as they dashed along. Marie Josephine did not realize what she had said at first, but when they all turned and looked at her and Denise exclaimed: “When you saw her dancing with Lisle! What do you mean, Marie Josephine? You were not at the ball!” she knew how stupid she had been and the telltale color flew to her cheeks.
“How could you have seen me dance at the ball when you were fast asleep in bed?” put in Hortense.
Cécile looked straight at Marie Josephine and suddenly she guessed. She knew that Rosanne had been hiding in the balcony. There was a twinkle in her blue eyes as she looked at Marie Josephine, but she would not have told her suspicions for anything in the world.
“You are blushing. You have done something very naughty. I am sure of it!” Denise said this with a relish. She was tired, and she had always had a habit of keeping persistently at a subject. She and Marie Josephine did not get on very well.
“Tell me what you meant when you said that about Hortense dancing at the ball, Marie Josephine,” she persisted.
Marie Josephine’s eyes began to twinkle, too. She settled back comfortably against the pillows and called Flambeau’s attention to some black baby pigs which a woman in a scarlet petticoat was feeding at a moss-covered wooden trough. Denise kept her eyes on Marie Josephine, who held Flambeau’s paws as the dog looked interestedly at the pigs. Marie Josephine knew that Proté, who still sat on the little stool at her feet, was shaking in her shoes. It would be fun to tell in spite of the consequences, if it were not for Proté and for Rosanne!
“You dare not look me in the eyes and say that you did not go to the ball,” persisted Denise, who was becoming more and more interested and excited. She had not at first really believed that her sister had gone to the ball and had kept on the subject because she felt in a teasing mood, but Marie Josephine’s telltale color betrayed her and Proté’s look of horror confirmed her suspicions.