As Denyse did not reply, he lifted her down from her horse, saying as he did so: "You will, mad'moiselle, won't you?" And then, after giving the reins to the old groom, he led the way to the door of the farm, and stood aside for Bijou to enter.
"How nice it is here, Monsieur Lavenue," she exclaimed, in a pleasant way. "Have I ever seen this room before? No, I don't think I have!"
"Yes, you've seen it, mad'moiselle, only, you know, it's been fresh white-washed, and, you see, that makes it different-like."
"When you are married, now," she said, smiling, "it will be very nice, indeed."
Farmer Lavenue, who was looking at Bijou with hungry eyes, held his head up erect, and then, shaking it slowly, he answered, with some hesitation:
"I can't decide to give the farm a mistress, because I don't come across one as suits me." And after a moment's silence, he added: "That is to say, amongst them as I could have."
"Why, how's that? any of the girls from Bracieux, or Combes, or from the villages round The Borderettes, would marry you, Monsieur Lavenue, and there are some very pretty girls among them."
"I can't see as they are," he answered, blushing, and twisting about in his fingers the huge, broad-brimmed hat which he always wore the whole year round.
"You are difficult to please, then; do you mean that you don't think Catherine Lebour pretty?"
Bijou laughed merrily. "Oh, well, do you mean to say that you don't admire any woman?"
"Who is it?" she asked, looking full at the peasant, with her frank, innocent expression.
Lavenue turned redder still, and stooped down with an awkward movement to pick up his hat, which had fallen to the ground.
"I can't say," he stuttered out; "she isn't for such as me."
Bijou did not hear his reply. With her pretty figure slightly bent, and her head thrown back, she was slowly drinking a second cup of milk, whilst the farmer, who had recovered himself, stood still, with his eyes wide open, gazing at this fragile-looking young creature in timid, half-fearful admiration.
When Bijou had finished her milk, she looked at him critically, with a smile on her lips.
"My goodness! how warm it is to-day," he said, wiping with the back of his hand the great drops of perspiration, which stood out on his forehead.