the former upon her raised
seat, the latter in her little armchair, and both took up their work.
Swelling with gratitude for the full heart-understanding her mother had
given her, Eugenie kissed the dear hand, saying,--

"How good you are, my kind mamma!"

The words sent a glow of light into the motherly face, worn and blighted
as it was by many sorrows.

"You like him?" asked Eugenie.

Madame Grandet only smiled in reply. Then, after a moment's silence, she
said in a low voice: "Do you love him already? That is wrong."

"Wrong?" said Eugenie. "Why is it wrong? You are pleased with him, Nanon
is pleased with him; why should he not please me? Come, mamma, let us
set the table for his breakfast."

She threw down her work, and her mother did the same, saying, "Foolish
child!" But she sanctioned the child's folly by sharing it. Eugenie
called Nanon.

"What do you want now, mademoiselle?"

"Nanon, can we have cream by midday?"

"Ah! midday, to be sure you can," answered the old servant.

"Well, let him have his coffee very strong; I heard Monsieur des
Grassins say that they make the coffee very strong in Paris. Put in a
great deal."

"Where am I to get it?"

"Buy some."

"Suppose monsieur meets me?"

"He has gone to his fields."

"I'll run, then. But Monsieur Fessard asked me yesterday if the Magi
had come to stay with us when I bought the wax candle. All the town will
know our goings-on."

"If your father finds it out," said Madame Grandet, "he is capable of
beating us."

"Well, let him beat us; we will take his blows on our knees."

Madame Grandet for all answer raised her eyes to heaven. Nanon put on
her hood and went off. Eugenie got out some clean table-linen, and went
to fetch a few bunches of grapes which she had amused herself by hanging
on a string across the attic; she walked softly along the corridor, so
as not to waken her cousin, and she could not help listening at the door
to his quiet breathing.

"Sorrow is watching while he sleeps," she thought.

She took the freshest vine-leaves and arranged her dish of grapes as
coquettishly as a practised house-keeper might have done, and placed it
triumphantly on the table. She laid hands on the pears counted out by
her father, and piled them in a pyramid mixed with leaves. She went
and came, and skipped and ran. She would have liked to lay under
contribution everything in her father's house; but the keys were in his
pocket. Nanon came back wit