Part 10 (1/2)

In the same language Mr. Rougeant replied: ”Yes, this is he.”

She had now regained all her former ease, and knowing her father's manners, thanked Frank most cordially.

He stammered out a few words of acknowledgement.

Seeing that her visitor cast glances at the quaint furniture, and anxious to break the confusing silence, Adele went on: ”Doubtless you had not seen a kitchen like this before Mr. ----.”

”My name is Frank Mathers,” interposed the young man.

”And mine is Adele Rougeant,” said she.

”Fancy, putting you in such a kitchen. We must go into the parlour directly.”

”This is indeed very quaint and certainly primitive furniture. I must explain the use of----, that is if----.”

”I should be greatly obliged,” said Frank, ”but it really is giving yourself too much trouble.”

”On the contrary, it gives me pleasure. This”--pointing to a low kind of bedstead--”was the sofa of our forefathers. We call it a _jonquiere_. It was formerly stuffed with a weed which still grows near the coast; called jonquier--hence its name. These rods were used to hang the _craseaux_ on them. A _crase_, the singular of _craseaux_, is a lamp of the most primitive type.”

”A vessel with a beak in which some oil is poured, and in the beak is placed a wick, while underneath the vessel another one is suspended as a receptacle for the oil which falls from the upper one. Only ten years ago we still used them. I remember it quite well.”

”And these are what we call '_lattes_,'” she said, pointing to a wooden rack which hung suspended from the ceiling and parallel to it. ”As you see, the bacon is kept there.”

She stopped here, and looked anxiously at her father. He was pale and trembling. ”Are you ill, father?” questioned his daughter.

”No, I'm not ill, although I do not feel quite well. Make me a _totae_,” he said, ”then I'll go to bed and try to sleep off my indisposition.”

His daughter did as her father requested.

When she was out of the room, Frank asked Mr. Rougeant what he meant by a _totae_.

”Oh, it's a capital thing,” responded the latter, ”toasted bread soaked in warm cider. You swallow cider and all; if that does not drive a cold away, nothing will.”

While the young lady was busily engaged in toasting the bread, Frank thought it best to take his leave.

Mr. Rougeant asked him to pay them a visit on the morrow. The young man promised to call. He managed to overcome his timidity sufficiently to raise his eyes as he took leave of Adele. Her eyes met his, she blushed and immediately dropped her eyelids.

Through the eyes the souls had spoken.

CHAPTER VII.

AN ABRUPT DISMISSAL.

Next day Frank Mathers prepared to pay his promised visit.

He fancied that he felt very much like William the Conqueror when he set out from Normandy to fight against the English. And probably he did.

While he was dressing with more than ordinary care, his thoughts were all about Adele.

”'Tis strange,” he soliloquized, ”such a well-bred, educated and refined young lady in this strange place. She is a rose among thistles,”--he had already formed his opinion of the master of ”Les Marches.”