her
arm. And she seemed to bring all the sunlight of the spring morning with
her, so bright was the sparkle of her youth. The whole of her pink face,
her delicate nose, her broad intelligent brow, her thick, kindly lips,
beamed beneath the heavy coils of her black hair. And her brown eyes ever
laughed with the joyousness which comes from health and strength.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, "I have brought such a lot of things, youngsters.
Just come and see them; I wouldn't unpack the basket in the kitchen."

It became absolutely necessary for the brothers to draw round the basket
which she had laid upon the table. "First there's the butter!" said she;
"just smell if it hasn't a nice scent of nuts! It's churned especially
for me, you know. Then here are the eggs. They were laid only yesterday,
I'll answer for it. And, in fact, that one there is this morning's. And
look at the cutlets! They're wonderful, aren't they? The butcher cuts
them carefully when he sees me. And then here's a cream cheese, real
cream, you know, it will be delicious! Ah! and here's the surprise,
something dainty, some radishes, some pretty little pink radishes. Just
fancy! radishes in March, what a luxury!"

She triumphed like the good little housewife she was, one who had
followed a whole course of cookery and home duties at the Lycee Fenelon.
The brothers, as merry as she herself, were obliged to compliment her.

All at once, however, she caught sight of Pierre. "What! you are there,
Monsieur l'Abbe?" she exclaimed; "I beg your pardon, but I didn't see
you. How is Guillaume? Have you brought us some news of him?"

"But father's come home," said Thomas; "he's upstairs with Mere-Grand."

Quite thunderstruck, she hastily placed her purchases in the basket.
"Guillaume's come back, Guillaume's come back!" said she, "and you don't
tell me of it, you let me unpack everything! Well, it's nice of me, I
must say, to go on praising my butter and eggs when Guillaume's come
back."

Guillaume, as it happened, was just coming down with Madame Leroi. Marie
gaily hastened to him and offered him her cheeks, on which he planted two
resounding kisses. Then she, resting her hands on his shoulders, gave him
a long look, while saying in a somewhat tremulous voice: "I am pleased,
very pleased to see you, Guillaume. I may confess it now, I thought I had
lost you, I was very anxious and very unhappy."

Although she was still smiling, tears had gathered in her eyes, and he,