"I spoke French with my father, and English with my mother," said Perrine, "and when we were all three talking together we spoke sometimes one, sometimes the other, mixing two languages without paying attention."
"I wasn't sure whether I should say anything about you or not, but now I will, if you like."
"Why, yes; do, if you think a poor girl like me could be of any use to them."
"'Tain't a question of being a poor girl or a young lady; it's a question of knowing English," said Rosalie.
"I speak it, but to translate a business letter is another thing," said Perrine, doubtfully.
"It'll be all right with M. Mombleux; he knows the business part."
"Well, then, tell him I shall be very pleased if I can do anything for M. Bendit."
The perch, although a large one, had all been eaten, and all the watercress had disappeared. It was now time for the dessert. Perrine got up and replaced the fish plates with smaller leaf plates in the shape of a cup; she had picked the prettiest, with variegated shades, and marked as exquisitely as enameled ware. Then she offered her guest the gooseberries.
"Let me offer you some fruit from my own garden," she said, laughing, as though she were playing at keeping doll's house.
"Over your head. There is a gooseberry bush growing in the branches of this willow tree which holds up the cabin, so it seems."
"You know you won't be able to live in here much longer," said Rosalie.
"Until winter! Why, the bird catchers will need this place pretty soon; that I'm sure."
The day, which had begun so brightly for Perrine, ended sadly. That night was certainly the worst Perrine had passed since she had been on her little island.
And all her utensils that she had taken such trouble to make; what should she do with them?
If Rosalie had not spoken to Perrine of the near opening of the shooting season for water fowl, Perrine would have stayed on in her cabin unaware of the danger that might come to her. Although this news came as a blow to her, what Rosalie had said about M. Bendit and the translations she might do for M. Mombleux gave her something else to think about.
Yes, her island was charming, and it would be a great grief for her to leave it. And yet here was an opportunity where she could be useful to two valued employés at the factory, and this step would lead to other steps, and it would open doors perhaps through which she could pass later. This was something that she should consider above all else, even above the sorrow of being dispossessed of her little kingdom. It was not for this game--robbing nests, catching fish, picking flowers, listening to the birds sing--that she had endured all the misery and fatigue of her long journey. She had an object in view. She must remember what her mother told her to do, and do it.