She recalled the smile that had passed over her brother's face, and thought: "It is nothing," and peace, entire, unquestioning, returned to her.
In the twilight of that winter afternoon on the borders of the Marais of Sallertaine, for one short hour there was a girl who smiled at life, and deemed that bad times were past and gone. She was still smiling, still sheltered in her retreat amid the straw, when André accosted his father, coming in from the Sunday tour of inspection, with:
"Everything is certainly going to the bad, father."
The farmer, his head full of the promise of hay and wheat harvests he had just been examining, answered contentedly:
"No, everything is coming up well. The spring crop of oats is promising; what is going to the bad?"
"I heard at Saint Jean-de-Mont that there is to be a sale of the furniture at the Château, father!"
For a moment Toussaint Lumineau could not take it in.
"Yes, all the furniture," repeated André. "It is advertised in the papers. See, if you don't believe me, here's the list. Everything is to be sold."
He drew a paper from his pocket, and pointed with his finger to an advertisement, from which the old farmer laboriously read:
"On Sunday, February 20th, Maître Oulry, notary at Chalons, will proceed to sell the furniture of the Château de la Fromentière. There will be sold: the entire drawing-room and dining-room furniture, old tapestries, oak chests, pictures, beds, tables, china and glass, wines, guns, contents of the library, wardrobes, etc."