"'Madame la Comtesse,' I returned, 'Brittany has many peculiarities; we cannot deny it; would that they were all as innocent as these crêpes. My chef is not a Breton, and he will not make them, perhaps, quite à la manière des nôtres; but I will superintend him for once. You shall have our famous dish.' And if you wish to know how she liked them," concluded Madame, laughing, "ask Catherine, là-haut. Three times a week at least we had pancakes on the menu. But nothing delights us more than when we please our guests. We like them to be at home here, and to feel that they may do as they please and order what they like."
To the truth of which self-commendation we bore good testimony.
"Now about the excursions," said M. Hellard. "I recommend you to go to-morrow to St. Thégonnec and Guimiliau, the next day to St. Jean-du-Doigt and Plougasnou, and the third day to Landerneau and Le Folgoët. The two first by carriage, the last by train."
So it was arranged, and we were about to separate when in came our hostess of that little auberge by the river-side, A la halte des Pêcheurs, carrying a barrel of oysters. She had walked all the way, and though the sun shone brilliantly, she was armed with a huge cotton umbrella that would have roofed a fair-sized tent.
"Madame Mirmiton!" cried M. Hellard; "and with a barrel of oysters, too! You are welcome as fine weather at the Fête-Dieu! But why you and not your husband?"
"Ah, monsieur!" replied Madame Mirmiton: "Figurez-vous, my husband was running after that naughty girl of mine, stumbled over the cat and sprained his ankle. He will be quite a week getting well again."
"And the cat?" asked our host, comically.
"Pauvre Minette!" answered Madame Mirmiton, with tears in her voice. "She flew up the chimney. We have never seen her since—two days ago."
"Well, whether you or your bon homme bring them, these oysters are equally à propos. I am sure ces messieurs will enjoy our natives for déjeuner. I have it!" he cried, striking his forehead. "You shall have an early déjeuner, and start immediately after for St. Thégonnec, instead of delaying it until to-morrow. You will have plenty of time, and must profit by the fine weather. I will order déjeuner at once, and the carriage in an hour."
So are there times when our days, and occasionally the whole course of our lives, are apparently changed by the turning of a straw.