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"What has filled her head so full of that upstart Willan, I wonder!" A thought struck Jeanne; the only wonder was it had never struck her before. In her sudden excitement she sprung from her chair, and began to walk rapidly up and down the floor.
Canst thou not come and walk with me in the pear orchard?" said Willan. "I fear me I may not do that after nightfall," replied Victorine. "My aunt would be angry." "She need not know," replied the eager Willan. "Thou canst come down by this stairway, and it is already near dark." Victorine laughed a little low laugh. This pleased her.
"So he deserves," replied Willan, heartily; and in his heart he added, "I hope I shall not get my deserts." Benoit led the poor horse away toward the stables, and Willan entered the house. No one was to be seen. Benoit had forgotten to tell him that no one was at home except Victorine. It was a market-day at St.
"I tell thee the girl's heart is full of anger against Willan Blaycke. She is but doing my bidding. I charged her to see to it that he was pleased, that he should go away our friend." "And so he will go," replied Victor, dryly; "but not for thy bidding or mine. The man is that far pleased already that he shifteth as if the very chair were hot beneath him.
Even the plotting brain of Victorine was not insensible to the charm of the sky, the air, the budding foliage, and the myriads of blossoms. "Oh, sir," she said, "I think there never was such a day as this before!" "I know there never was," replied Willan, looking at her with an expression which was key to his words.
"Hoity, toity!" muttered Victor; "he thinks he can lord it over us, surely." "Be quiet, father!" entreated Jeanne. Her quick eye saw something new in the bearing of both Willan and Victorine. But Victor was not to be quieted. With an angry oath, he sprung forward from the porch, and began to upbraid Willan in no measured tones. Willan lifted his right hand authoritatively. "Wait!" he said.
She had invented this tale on the spur of the instant. She could not have done better if she had plotted long to devise a method of flattering Willan Blaycke. It is strange how like inspiration are the impulses of artful women at times. It would seem wellnigh certain that they must be prompted by malicious fiends wishing to lure men on to destruction in the surest way.
Her children were trained as almoners very young, and she expected them to give an exact account of what they gave, and their reasons for giving. She was a very zealous and practical advocate for vaccination, having been taught by the celebrated Dr. Willan, one of the earliest and most successful followers of Dr. Jenner.
"My aunt's candle is out; she hath gone to bed," whispered Victorine, as holding Willan's hand she stole softly down the outer stair. "I do doubt much that I am doing wrong." "Nay, nay," whispered Willan. "Thou sweet one, what wrong can there be in thy walking a little time with me? Thy aunt did let thee ride with me all the day." And he tenderly guided Victorine's steps down the steep stairs.
He will marry her, or he will leave her alone." "We shall see," muttered the coarse old man as he walked away, "we shall see. Like mother, like child. I trust them not." And in a thorough ill-humor Victor betook himself to the courtyard. What he heard there did not reassure him. Old Benoit had seen Willan and Victorine going down through the poplar copse toward the pear orchard.
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