nger get out of bed, or she would have come to meet
you too."

I went to the door, and then said to them, "You will come and dine with
us, both of you."

"I will with pleasure," said the father. "Yes, Joseph, we will come."

I went home to tell Father Goulden of my invitation, and he was all the
more pleased as Catherine and her aunt were to be there also.

I never had been more happy than when thinking of having my beloved, my
best friend, and all those whom I loved the most, together at our house.

That day at eleven o'clock our large room on the first floor was a
pretty sight to see. The floor had been well scrubbed, the round table
in the middle of the room was covered with a beautiful cloth with red
stripes and six large silver covers upon it, the napkins folded like a
boat in the shining plates, the salt-cellar and the sealed bottles, and
the large cut glasses sparkling in the sun which came over the groups
of lilac ranged along the windows.

Mr. Goulden wished to have everything in abundance, grand and
magnificent, as he would for princes and embassadors, and he had taken
his silver from the basket, a most unusual thing; I had made the soup
myself. In it there were three pounds of good meat, a head of cabbage,
carrots in abundance, indeed everything necessary; except that,--which
you can never have so good at an hotel,--everything had been ordered by
Mr. Goulden himself from the "Ville de Metz."

About noon we looked at each other, smiling and rubbing our hands, he
in his beautiful nut-brown coat, well shaved, and with his great peruke
a little rusty, in place of his old black silk cap, his maroon breeches
neatly turned over his thick woollen stockings, and shoes with great
buckles on his feet; while I had on my sky-blue coat of the latest
fashion, my shirt finely plaited in front, and happiness in my heart.

All that was lacking now was our guests--Catherine, Aunt Gredel, the
grave-digger, and Zebede. We walked up and down laughing and saying,
"Everything is in its place and we had best get out the soup-tureen."
And I looked out now and then to see if they were coming.

At last Aunt Gredel and Catherine turned the corner of the rue Foquet;
they came from mass and had their prayer-books under their arms, and
farther on I saw the old grave-digger in his fine coat with wide
sleeves, and his old three-cornered hat, and Zebede, who had put on a
clean shirt and shaved himself. They came from the side nex