"Then let us sit down, and tell it quickly."
The old sisters sat on the oak chest and made Rousille take a chair facing them, close up that they might see her happy face, and each taking a hand in hers prepared to listen. The three faces were close together; the candle gave just light enough to reveal lip or eyes irradiated with a smile.
"My news is," said Rousille, "that my father, having no longer a son to help him, wishes Jean Nesmy to come back."
"What, Rousille, your sweetheart?"
"Aunt Michelonne, it is to save La Fromentière."
"Then you are going to be married, pet; you are going to be married?" exclaimed Aunt Adelaide enthusiastically, half rising; while her sister, on the contrary, bent lower to hide her emotion.
"Yes, father has said so. If you will help me."
"If! You know I will; you are my daughter. You have only to ask for what you want—but tell me, is it money?"
"No, aunt."
"A trousseau that we will both set about making?"