"Ah! your husband is absent?"
"Have you something to say to him, monsieur?"
"To him and to you also, my good woman."
"Come in and refresh yourself," said she.
M. le Curé entered, and took a seat near the table. He appeared preoccupied, and answered like a man who did not hear what was said to him. He even placed his cane against the bread-box, and his hat on top—something which he had never done before, as the slightest motion might have sent them to the floor. When he put his hand in his pocket for his breviary, he found he had forgotten it, which embarrassed him not a little; as, it must be said, no man was more exact and particular than he in words as well as in actions.
La Ragaude, not being a fool by nature, quietly replaced the cane and hat in a safe place, but was, in her turn, very much astonished to see the curé so absent, as it was the first time it had ever happened; and from that concluded he must have something in his head of great importance. What could it be?
While busying herself around the room, without showing it, Pierrette Ragaud had distractions also. She drew new wine for cider, and washed a glass which had not been used. But that I do not believe she would have perceived then or afterwards; for she was so accustomed to scrub everything you could have used the side walls of the stable for a mirror.
M. le Curé tasted the wine through civility, but, as he said nothing, she began to feel rather impatient. Women are curious. My deceased father was accustomed to say, from that came all the evil from the commencement of the world. It is true the dear man was rather in his dotage towards the end; but it is also true that I have heard others say the same thing.
Pierrette at last commenced to question the curé very respectfully and gently; for, in truth, she could no longer restrain herself.
"Although the master is out, M. le Curé," said she, "will you not tell me what I can do to serve you?—without pressing to know, you understand, monsieur."