was an old man with white hair who had been in the parish for over forty
years, and from the pulpit he was in the habit of discoursing familiarly
to them all, and so he went on: "I recommend Desire Vallin, who is very
ill, to your prayers, and also la Paumelle, who is not recovering from
her confinement satisfactorily."

He had forgotten the rest, and so he looked for the slips of paper which
were put away in a breviary, and at last he found two and continued: "I
will not have the lads and the girls come into the churchyard in the
evening, as they do; otherwise I shall inform the rural policeman.
Monsieur Cesaire Omont would like to find a respectable girl servant."
He reflected for a few moments, and then added: "That is all, my
brethren, and I wish that all of you may find the Divine mercy."

And he came down from the pulpit, to finish mass.

When the Malandains had returned to their cottage, which was the last in
the village of La Sabliere, on the road to Fourville, the father, a
thin, wrinkled old peasant, sat down at the table, while his wife took
the saucepan off the fire, and Adelaide, the daughter, took the glasses
and plates out of the sideboard, and he said: "I think that place at
Maitre Omont's ought to be a good one, as he is a widower and his
daughter-in-law does not like him. He is all alone and has money. I
think it would be a good thing to send Adelaide there."

His wife put the black saucepan onto the table, took the lid off, and
while the steam, which smelt strongly of cabbage, rose into the air she
reflected, and he presently continued: "He has got some money, that is
certain, but any one going there ought to be very sharp, and Adelaide is
not that at all." And his wife replied: "I might go and see, all the
same," and turning to her daughter, a strapping, silly looking girl with
yellow hair and fat red cheeks like apples, she said: "Do you hear, you
great silly? You are to go to Maitre Omont's and offer yourself as his
servant, and you will do whatever he tells you."

The girl began to laugh in a foolish manner, without replying, and then
all the three began their dinner. In ten minutes, the father continued:
"Listen to me, girl, and try not to make a mistake about what I am going
to say to you ..." And slowly and minutely he laid down for her her line
of conduct, anticipating the minutest details, and preparing her for the
conquest of an old widower who was on unfriendly terms with his family.