“Ah! you rascal! you seem to have found out about all this while you was bringing her home.”
“Oh, uncle! I should never have thought of such a thing, because she’s innocence itself, you see, and she’d have given me a good crack! and she’s a strong one, my girl is. She’s a good stout sample of virtue. However, she’s my choice, and as you’ve got here, we’ll have the wedding to-morrow.”
During this dialogue they had arrived at the farm-house, which was a substantial one and indicated that its owner was in comfortable circumstances.
“Jérôme,” said Monsieur Cadet to one of his men, “go and let everybody in the neighborhood know that the wedding will be to-morrow, and that we’re getting everything ready for the supper and the ball; and go and tell the musicians I’ve engaged.—I’ll go and get my bride that is to be; she and mother are at one of the neighbors’, but I want you to see her right away, and these gentlemen too.”
“The fellow’s terrible far gone,” said Père Rondin as he escorted the travellers into the house and invited them to be seated.
Madame Eustache soon appeared; she kissed her brother, then proceeded to kiss the new arrivals; for that is the way acquaintances are made in the country.
“But where’s the bride?” queried Père Rondin; “ain’t we going to see her?”
“In just a minute, brother; she’s gone to prink up a bit for the company. Ah! my eye! she’s a fine girl, and Cadet knows what’s what!”
“Has she got any money?”
“She’s got a nice little pile that the gentleman she worked for gave her; and he told my boy he was giving him a real rosière![G] And Cadet’s a shrewd one, you know, and wouldn’t let anybody take him in.”