im like three rustic clowns. They must
have been rich, or she would not have listened to their suits. One of
them was more than forty, and was about as stout as Pere Leonard;
another had but one eye, and drank so much that it made him stupid; the
third was young and not a bad-looking fellow; but he attempted to be
witty, and said such insane things that one could but pity him. But the
widow laughed as if she admired all his idiotic remarks, and therein she
gave no proof of good taste. Germain thought at first that she was in
love with the young man; but he soon perceived that he was himself the
recipient of marked encouragement, and that she wished him to yield more
readily to her charms. That was to him a reason for feeling and
appearing even colder and more solemn.

The hour of Mass arrived, and they left the table to attend in a body.
They had to go to Mers, a good half-league away, and Germain was so
tired that he would have been glad of an opportunity to take a nap
first: but he was not in the habit of being absent from Mass, and he
started with the others.

The roads were filled with people, and the widow walked proudly along,
escorted by her three suitors, taking the arm of one, then of another,
bridling up and carrying her head high. She would have been very glad to
exhibit the fourth to the passers-by; but it seemed so ridiculous to be
paraded thus in company by a petticoat, in everybody's sight, that he
kept at a respectful distance, talking with Pere Leonard and finding a
way to divert his thoughts and occupy his mind so that they did not seem
to belong to the party.

XIII

THE MASTER

When they reached the village, the widow stopped to wait for them. She
was determined to make her entry with her whole suite; but Germain,
refusing to afford her that satisfaction, left Pere Leonard, spoke with
several people of his acquaintance, and entered the church by another
door. The widow was vexed with him.

After the Mass, she made her appearance in triumph on the greensward
where dancing was in progress, and opened three successive dances with
her three lovers. Germain watched her, and concluded that she danced
well, but with affectation.

"Well!" said Leonard, clapping him on the shoulder, "so you don't ask my
daughter to dance? You are altogether too bashful!"

"I don't dance since I lost my wife," the ploughman replied.

"Oh! but when you're looking for another, mourning's at an end in your
hear