e trade. This party was
reenforced by one or two more single men, and some of the daughters of
the woodchoppers, attracted by the prospect of a day of dancing and
joyous feasting.

These persons were sauntering in and out under the trees, waiting for the
dinner, which was to be furnished mainly by the guests, the contribution
of the charcoal-men being limited to a huge pot of potatoes which the
patroness was cooking over the fire, kindled in front of the hut.

The arrival of Julien and Claudet, attended by the small cowboy, puffing
and blowing under a load of provisions, was hailed with exclamations of
gladness and welcome. While one of the assistants was carefully unrolling
the big loaves of white bread, the enormous meat pastry, and the bottles
encased in straw, Reine Vincart appeared suddenly on the scene,
accompanied by one of the farm-hands, who was also tottering under the
weight of a huge basket, from the corners of which peeped the ends of
bottles, and the brown knuckle of a smoked ham. At sight of the young
proprietress of La Thuiliere, the hurrahs burst forth again, with
redoubled and more sustained energy. As she stood there smiling, under
the greenish shadow cast by the ashtrees, Reine appeared to Julien even
more seductive than among the frosty surroundings of the previous
occasion. Her simple and rustic spring costume was marvellously becoming:
a short blue-and-yellow striped skirt, a tight jacket of light-colored
material, fitted closely to the waist, a flat linen collar tied with a
narrow blue ribbon, and a bouquet of woodruff at her bosom. She wore
stout leather boots, and a large straw hat, which she threw carelessly
down on entering the hut. Among so many faces of a different type, all
somewhat disfigured by hardships of exposure, this lovely face with its
olive complexion, lustrous black eyes, and smiling red lips, framed in
dark, soft, wavy hair resting on her plump shoulders, seemed to spread a
sunshiny glow over the scene. It was a veritable portrayal of the "queen
of the woods," appearing triumphant among her rustic subjects. As an
emblem of her royal prerogative, she held in her hand an enormous bouquet
of flowers she had gathered on her way: honeysuckles, columbine, all
sorts of grasses with shivering spikelets, black alder blossoms with
their white centres, and a profusion of scarlet poppies. Each of these
exhaled its own salubrious springlike perfume, and a light cloud of
pollen, which cover