be sends you an
express, the son of Mere Grosmort, with a letter. The lad left Alencon
before daylight, and he has just arrived; he ran like Penelope! Can't I
give him a glass of wine?"

"What can have happened, Josette? Do you think my uncle can be--"

"He couldn't write if he were," said Josette, guessing her mistress's
fears.

"Quick! quick!" cried Mademoiselle Cormon, as soon as she had read the
first lines. "Tell Jacquelin to harness Penelope--Get ready, Josette;
pack up everything in half an hour. We must go back to town--"

"Jacquelin!" called Josette, excited by the sentiment she saw on her
mistress's face.

Jacquelin, informed by Josette, came in to say,--

"But, mademoiselle, Penelope is eating her oats."

"What does that signify? I must start at once."

"But, mademoiselle, it is going to rain."

"Then we shall get wet."

"The house is on fire!" muttered Josette, piqued at the silence her
mistress kept as to the contents of the letter, which she read and
reread.

"Finish your coffee, at any rate, mademoiselle; don't excite your blood;
just see how red you are."

"Am I red, Josette?" she said, going to a mirror, from which the
quicksilver was peeling, and which presented her features to her upside
down.

"Good heavens!" thought Mademoiselle Cormon, "suppose I should look
ugly! Come, Josette; come, my dear, dress me at once; I want to be ready
before Jacquelin has harnessed Penelope. If you can't pack my things in
time, I will leave them here rather than lose a single minute."

If you have thoroughly comprehended the positive monomania to which the
desire of marriage had brought Mademoiselle Cormon, you will share her
emotion. The worthy uncle announced in this sudden missive that Monsieur
de Troisville, of the Russian army during the Emigration, grandson of
one of his best friends, was desirous of retiring to Alencon, and asked
his, the abbe's hospitality, on the ground of his friendship for his
grandfather, the Vicomte de Troisville. The old abbe, alarmed at the
responsibility, entreated his niece to return instantly and help him to
receive this guest, and do the honors of the house; for the viscount's
letter had been delayed, and he might descend upon his shoulders that
very night.

After reading this missive could there be a question of the demands
of Prebaudet? The keeper and the gardener, witnesses to Mademoiselle
Cormon's excitement, stood aside and awaited her orders. But when,
as sh