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At this Mere-Grand raised her eyes from the shirt she was mending, and remarked: "Oh! it's natural enough, my dear. It is your heart rising to your cheeks in order that we may see it." The /dejeuner/ hour was now at hand; and they decided to lay the table in the work-shop, as was occasionally done when they had a guest. The simple, cordial meal proved very enjoyable in the bright sunlight.
Although Guillaume looked somewhat pale, and spoke with unusual caressing softness, he retained his customary bright smile. But, on the other hand, never had Mere-Grand been more silent or more grave. Marie's creme proved a great success, and the others congratulated her on it so fulsomely that they made her blush.
And a grave smile appeared even on the pale lips of Mere-Grand, who likewise approved of the happiness which life seemed to be promising. Pierre wished to stay a few minutes longer. They all began to chat, and his astonishment increased.
He shuddered and stammered in momentary expectation of a catastrophe which would hurl the work-shop to the heavens. "Mere-Grand, Mere-Grand," he stammered. "The apparatus, the tap... it is all over, all over!" The old woman had raised her head without as yet understanding him. "Eh, what?" said she; "what is the matter with you?"
"Guillaume only gave me one other commission," resumed Pierre, "that of handing a little key to Madame Leroi." "Very good," Marie answered, "Mere-Grand is here; and, besides, the children must see you. I will take you to them." Once more quite tranquil, she examined Pierre without managing to conceal her curiosity, which seemed of rather a kindly nature blended with an element of vague pity.
It was plain, however, that he kept them apart from anything at all perilous, that he retained all responsibility for himself, and that Mere-Grand alone was his confidante, the one whom he consulted and to whom he perhaps listened.
"It would indeed be prudent of you to deprive yourselves of the pleasure of embracing him until he himself can come back here. It will be a matter of some two or three weeks," answered Pierre. Mere-Grand at once expressed approval of this. "No doubt," said she. "Nothing could be more sensible."
And his heart bled, he was utterly upset by it. He had not found them in fault in any way, but he was convinced that these two children, as he so paternally called them, really adored one another. One lovely morning when he happened to be alone with Mere-Grand, face to face with sunlit Paris, he fell into a yet more dolorous reverie than usual.
Jean, my little Jean, look! see how beautiful it is!" Pierre, who was quivering, had drawn close beside her. And Mere-Grand and Bertheroy smiled upon that promise of a future which they would not see, whilst beside Guillaume, whom the sight filled with emotion, were his three big sons, the three young giants, looking quite grave, they who ever laboured and were ever hopeful.
And, in the full light under the window, Mere-Grand and Marie likewise had their particular table, where needlework, embroidery, all sorts of /chiffons/ and delicate things lay about near the somewhat rough jumble of retorts, tools and big books.
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