ense; so much the better for him, for if he is unfortunate
enough to listen to these people, if they imagine even that he can act
upon their advice, all is lost. There will be civil war. The people
have _thought_, during the last twenty-five years. They know their
rights, and they know that one man is as good as another, and that all
their 'noble races' are nonsense. Each one will keep his property,
each one will have equal rights and will defend himself to the death."
That is what Father Goulden said to me, and as my permit never came, I
thought the minister had no time to answer our demands with all these
counts and viscounts, these dukes and marquises at his back, who were
clamoring for their woods and their ponds and their fat offices. I was
indignant.

"Great God," I cried, "what misery! as soon as one misfortune is over
another begins! and it is always the innocent who suffer for the faults
of the others! O God! deliver us from the _nobles_, old and new!
Crown them with blessings, but let them leave us in peace!"

One morning Aunt Gredel came in to see us; it was on Friday and
market-day. She brought her basket on her arm and seemed very happy.
I looked toward the door, thinking that Catherine was coming too, and I
said: "Good-morning, Aunt Gredel; Catherine is in town, she is coming
too?"

"No! Joseph, no; she is at Quatre Vents. We are over our ears in work
on account of the planting."

I was disappointed and vexed too, for I had anticipated seeing her.
But Aunt Gredel put her basket on the table, and said as she lifted up
the cover:

"Look! here is something for you, Joseph, something from Catherine."

There was a great bouquet of May roses, violets, and three beautiful
lilacs with their green leaves around the edge. The sight of this made
me happy, and I laughed and said: "How sweetly it smells." And Father
Goulden turned round and laughed too, saying:

"You see, Joseph, they are always thinking of you!"

And we all laughed together. My good-humor had returned, and I kissed
Aunt Gredel and told her to take it to Catherine from me.

Then I put my bouquet in a vase on the window-sill by my bedside, and
thought of Catherine going out in the early morning to gather the
violets and the fresh roses and adding one after the other in the dew,
putting in the lilacs last, and the odor seemed still more delightful.
I could not look at them enough. I left them on the window-sill,
thinking:

"I sh