the measure of La Teuse's wrath was filled when she suddenly
perceived Rosalie coming up to the altar like the others with a bundle
of boughs in her arms.

'Get down, will you?' she cried to her. 'You are a cool one, and no
mistake, my lass!--Hurry up, off you go with your bundle.'

'What for, I'd like to know?' said Rosalie boldly. 'You can't say I have
stolen it.'

The other girls drew closer, feigning innocence and exchanging sparkling
glances.

'Clear out,' repeated La Teuse, 'you have no business here, do you
hear?'

Then, quite losing her scanty patience, she gave vent to a very coarse
epithet, which provoked a titter of delight among the peasant girls.

'Well, what next?' said Rosalie. 'Mind your own business. Is it any
concern of yours?'

Then she burst into a fit of sobbing and threw down her boughs, but let
the Abbe lead her aside and give her a severe lecture. He had already
tried to silence La Teuse; for he was beginning to feel uneasy amidst
the big shameless hussies who filled the church with their armfuls of
foliage. They were pushing right up to the altar step, enclosing him
with a belt of woodland, wafting in his face a rank perfume of aromatic
shoots.

'Let us make haste, be quick!' he exclaimed, clapping his hands lightly.

'Goodness knows I would rather be in my bed,' grumbled La Teuse. 'It's
not so easy as you think to fasten all these bits of stuff.'

Finally, however, she succeeded in setting some lofty plumes of foliage
between the candlesticks. Next she folded the steps, which were laid
behind the high altar by Catherine. And then she only had to arrange
two clumps of greenery at the sides of the altar table. The last boughs
sufficed for this, and indeed there were some left which the girls
strewed over the sanctuary floor up to the wooden rails. The Lady altar
now looked like a grove, a shrubbery with a verdant lawn before it.

At present La Teuse was willing to make way for Abbe Mouret, who
ascended the altar steps, and, again lightly clapping his hands,
exclaimed: 'Young ladies, to-morrow we will continue the devotions of
the month of Mary. Those who may be unable to come ought at least to say
their Rosary at home.'

He knelt, and the peasant girls, with a mighty rustle of skirts, sank
down and settled themselves on their heels. They followed his prayer
with a confused muttering, through which burst here and there a giggle.
One of them, on being pinched from behind, burst into