came down again, her sister-in-law was waiting to speak to her
about the child, and a long conversation took place, in which, however,
nothing was settled. The carpenter's wife was artful and pretended to be
very much affected, and Madame Tellier, who was holding the girl on her
knee, would not pledge herself to anything definite, but merely gave
vague promises--she would not forget her, there was plenty of time,
and besides, they would meet again.

But the conveyance did not come to the door and the women did not come
downstairs. Upstairs they even heard loud laughter, romping, little
screams, and much clapping of hands, and so, while the carpenter's wife
went to the stable to see whether the cart was ready, madame went
upstairs.

Rivet, who was very drunk, was plaguing Rosa, who was half choking with
laughter. Louise and Flora were holding him by the arms and trying to
calm him, as they were shocked at his levity after that morning's
ceremony; but Raphaele and Fernande were urging him on, writhing and
holding their sides with laughter, and they uttered shrill cries at every
rebuff the drunken fellow received.

The man was furious, his face was red, and he was trying to shake off the
two women who were clinging to him, while he was pulling Rosa's skirt
with all his might and stammering incoherently.

But Madame Tellier, who was very indignant, went up to her brother,
seized him by the shoulders, and threw him out of the room with such
violence that he fell against the wall in the passage, and a minute
afterward they heard him pumping water on his head in the yard, and when
he reappeared with the cart he was quite calm.

They started off in the same way as they had come the day before, and the
little white horse started off with his quick, dancing trot. Under the
hot sun, their fun, which had been checked during dinner, broke out
again. The girls now were amused at the jolting of the cart, pushed their
neighbors' chairs, and burst out laughing every moment.

There was a glare of light over the country, which dazzled their eyes,
and the wheels raised two trails of dust along the highroad. Presently,
Fernande, who was fond of music, asked Rosa to sing something, and she
boldly struck up the "Gros Cure de Meudon," but Madame Tellier made her
stop immediately, as she thought it a very unsuitable song for such a
day, and she added:

"Sing us something of Beranger's." And so, after a moment's hesitation,
Rosa began B