The tea-table was set on the lawn where the lengthening shadows inscribed themselves map-wise in islands and peninsulas of coolness; and within the opened windows on the verandah were other refreshments, whither the gentlemen were invited to bend their steps, while the ladies with their ices remained out of doors. Muriel looking up, saw Pierre disappearing among the bushes along the approach.
"Auntie," she whispered to Matilda, "give me a big heaped-up plate of strawberries and ice-cream for poor Pierre. See, there he goes away home, all by himself. How lonely he must feel! and hot, and thirsty, to see us all sitting out here eating nice things. Quick! Tilly, dear, or he will be through the gate, and at his own door before I can catch him; and then I may meet Annette, who is never nice to me. I don't like Annette."
The plate was speedily filled and heaped up, and away she ran.
To Pierre, trudging along the gravel in his heavy boots, the light footsteps in pursuit were inaudible; and it was not till passing the gate, he stopped to close it behind him, that he heard his name called, and looking up, saw Muriel running towards him. Of course he stopped, and of course, too, being French, and a civil lad, he pulled off his cap and waited. An English lad would probably have turned back to meet the young mistress; but Pierre was apt to grow confused when Muriel appeared suddenly, she was so airy and different from his own heavy lumbering self. So there he stood, stock still like Jack stepping off his bean-stalk, when the fairy tripping down the meadow from the giant's castle, accosted him.
"Here, Pierre, I have brought you these. I wish I had seen you to give them sooner. You could have eaten them in the garden then, which would have been nicer."
"Oh! mademoiselle ees too kind," mumbled Pierre, reddening to the roots of his hair and looking sheepishly grateful. "Too moosh of trouble to give mademoiselle," and the burning black eyes looked out from under their lashes as if they would have spoken things forbidden to the stammering tongue. But there came a shrill call up the road just then, "Pier-r-re!" which quenched their lustre in a moment, and brought a faint frown of impatience even to Muriel's sunny brow.
"Your mother is calling you, Pierre. Good night.Bon appétit.
"Ah!coquin!What is it thou dost there?" was the greeting which met him as he drew near, from his mother standing in the road before the door. "Cochon! Bête!And thou lingerest at the gate with thedonzelle, forsooth. Thou!--Deny it not! Undutiful! And I have beaten thee for it when thou wert small, till my poor heart ached more than the bruises on thy little skin. And still thou wilt persist. I pray the heavenly queen upon my knees, and all the saints, to let thee die sooner than come to love her. 'Twere mortal sin."
"My mother? Calm yourself It was only that the demoiselle ran after me to give this plate of fruit. Will you not taste it?"
"Taste gift of hers?Enfante fausse!" and she pushed aside the offered strawberries which rolled plentifully from the plate and were scattered on the ground.
"Ah, no, my mother! Not false! The youngest angel in heaven is not more true and good than Mademoiselle Muriel. But you will not think so--I remind me often how you beat me for her sake. Beat me again, my mother, if so it please you; but she is good and very beautiful."
"Sacr-ré!" she ground out from between her clenched teeth, with flashing eyes glancing up and down the road; and then she started with a sob of afright, and a tremor ran through her frame as she composed herself to speak quite calmly. "I see thy father coming home. He must not know of what we have spoken, if thou would'st have thy mother's blessing when I die. Pick up thy berries. It was a heedless gesture of my arm which upset them. Thou can'st say so much." And she went indoors, leaving Pierre in bewilderment to gather the fruit.
That his mother, so gentle and fond, so sober, industrious and sensible, should break out like one beside herself, if their ladies' niece were but named, was unaccountable. A mystery, and one he dared not even try to solve. She had threatened to curse him if he did but inquire. And yet it was only before himself that she betrayed her feeling. In his father's presence she showed no sign, but would discuss the niece of their mistresses with him with the same composure as their horses, sheep or cattle. And yet mademoiseile was so sweet! And as he thought of her the bewilderment vanished in his mind like mist before the morning sun, and he forgot even to pick up his strawberries scattered around, while he knelt on the threshold.
"Heh, Pierre! On thy knees before sundown? Will the rosary not keep till bedtime?" said Jean, the father, stepping past him into the house.
"I am picking up some strawberries I let fall just now. Mademoiselle Muriel brought me them as I went home."
"She is an angel of considerateness and kindness--never forgets the poor for the sake of the rich--just like monsieur the general, her grandfather, if so please the ladies, and the demoiselles his daughters. A family most generous, even if they are not French and good Catholics;" and he crammed half-a-dozen large strawberries into his mouth at once, and gave them a crunch as though to drink the family's health in a bumper of strawberry wine.
Annette looked up from the baby she was nursing, and there was a gleam of red and smothered fire lurking in her eye, and she set her teeth tight to hold back the struggling wish that the girl's gift might choke him; while sire and son seated themselves on the door-sill to consume the collation, the elder, at least, utterly unconscious that aught was amiss.
Footnote 1: All right. First used by an auditor of accounts in Kentucky, who it was believed meant the letters to stand for Oll Kreck (all correct).