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Updated: June 19, 2025
Young Greisse had seen the landlady, who now never went upstairs among her guests, and had had his chamber allotted to him, and was seated at the supper-table, before he met George Voss. It was from Madame Faragon that George heard of his arrival. 'There is a neighbour of yours from Granpere in the house, said she. 'From Granpere? And who is he?
'So your cousin Marie is to be married to Adrian Urmand, the young linen-merchant at Basle, said Madame Faragon one morning to George Voss. In this manner were the first assured tidings of the coming marriage conveyed to the rival lover. This occurred a day or two after the betrothal, when Adrian was back at Basle.
The defect had been pointed out to Madame Faragon more than once; but that lady, though in most of the affairs of life her temper is gentle and kindly, cannot hear with equanimity an insinuation that any portion of her house is either dirty or unsweet. Complaints have reached her that the beds were well, inhabited but no servant now dares to hint at anything wrong in this particular.
There was one other question which Madame Faragon longed to ask; but she was almost too much afraid of her young friend to put it into words. At last she plucked up courage, and did ask her question after an ambiguous way. 'But I suppose it is nothing to you, George? 'Nothing at all. Nothing on earth, said he.
Now, when Madame Faragon learned that Michel Voss and Adrian Urmand had gone through Colmar back from Basle on their way to Granpere, she immediately foresaw what was to happen. Marie's marriage was to be hurried on, George was to be thrown overboard, and the pedlar's pack was to be triumphant over the sign of the innkeeper.
He was sure that his father, having been a party to the betrothal, would never consent to a breach of his promise to Urmand. Madame Voss, Madame Faragon, the priest, and their Protestant pastor would all be against them. They would be as it were outcasts from their own family.
'Going where, George? said Madame Faragon, leaning forward on the table before her, and looking like a picture of despair. 'To Granpere, Madame Faragon. 'To Granpere! and why? and when? and how? O dear! Why did you not tell me before, child? 'I told you as soon as I knew. 'But you are not going yet? 'On Monday. 'O dear! So soon as that! Lord bless me! We can't do anything before Monday.
But George could not bring himself to reply to this with good- humoured zeal, and there came for a moment a cloud between the father and son. But Michel was wise and swallowed his wrath, and in a minute or two returned to Colmar and Madame Faragon. At about half-past nine George escaped from his father and returned to the house.
'But, George; during all this time you have never mentioned it. 'There are some things, Madame Faragon, which one doesn't mention. And I do not know why I should have mentioned it at all. But you understand all about it now. Of course she will marry the man. It is not likely that my father should fail to have his own way with a girl who is dependent on him.
He does not work in Sunday School, it is true, but he has brought more than one farm hand into it. Christ fed five thousand by the sea of Galilee with five loaves and two small fishes. Was that Christian? Farmer Faragon, feeds, in his small way, by his industry, a few scores of hungry mortals. Is he a drone? Or take Mr. Typsel the printer. He publishes the Newtown Chronicle.
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