"When you wish to breakfast, messieurs, everything is ready."
They returned to the cottage, where they found a table laden with fruit, bread and milk, and butter, all arranged with a daintiness and neatness that charmed the eye.
"This is more appetizing than the soup of our good friends of Chadrat," said Alfred, as he and his companions seated themselves at the table.
"Won’t you sit down with us?" Edouard asked Isaure.
"Oh, no! I have already breakfasted, monsieur; but I will stay to wait on you, if you require anything."
As she spoke, Isaure seated herself at some little distance from the table, took some work, and began to sew. Vaillant at once lay down in front of his mistress, with his face turned toward the visitors, from whom he did not take his eyes for an instant, like a sentinel stationed to guard an important post, who never relaxes his watchfulness, so that he may defend it if attacked.
While they ate, the young men frequently glanced at the girl. There was on her features an impressible, gentle expression, to which her ingenuous and candid glance imparted an indefinable charm.
"I agree with Edouard now," said Alfred after a moment, "and I believe that Robineau is wrong."
"Do you occupy this house all alone?" Edouard asked the girl.
"Yes, monsieur, all alone, for the three years since my dear mother died."