rolled shawl that was to be used for a seat. Madame Aubain mounted the
second horse, behind Liebard. Felicite took charge of the little
girl, and Paul rode M. Lechaptois' donkey, which had been lent for the
occasion on the condition that they should be careful of it.

The road was so bad that it took two hours to cover the eight miles.
The two horses sank knee-deep into the mud and stumbled into ditches;
sometimes they had to jump over them. In certain places, Liebard's mare
stopped abruptly. He waited patiently till she started again, and talked
of the people whose estates bordered the road, adding his own moral
reflections to the outline of their histories. Thus, when they
were passing through Toucques, and came to some windows draped with
nasturtiums, he shrugged his shoulders and said: "There's a woman,
Madame Lehoussais, who, instead of taking a young man--" Felicite could
not catch what followed; the horses began to trot, the donkey to gallop,
and they turned into a lane; then a gate swung open, two farm-hands
appeared and they all dismounted at the very threshold of the
farm-house.

Mother Liebard, when she caught sight of her mistress, was lavish with
joyful demonstrations. She got up a lunch which comprised a leg of
mutton, tripe, sausages, a chicken fricassee, sweet cider, a fruit tart
and some preserved prunes; then to all this the good woman added polite
remarks about Madame, who appeared to be in better health, Mademoiselle,
who had grown to be "superb," and Paul, who had become singularly
sturdy; she spoke also of their deceased grandparents, whom the Liebards
had known, for they had been in the service of the family for several
generations.

Like its owners, the farm had an ancient appearance. The beams of the