And she came and went, attending to the fire and filling
the whole kitchen with her gay activity, like a good housewife who was
glad to display her accomplishments, while her betrothed, who had also
come downstairs again after changing his clothes, watched her with a kind
of religious admiration.
At last, when the whole family had arrived, the folks of the brake and
the pedestrians also, there came a rather sharp explanation. Mathieu and
Marianne were angry, so greatly had they been alarmed by that rush
through the storm.
"There was no sense in it, my girl," Marianne repeated. "Did you at least
change your linen?"
"Why yes, why yes!" replied Rose. "Where are the crawfish?"
Mathieu meantime was lecturing Frederic. "You might have broken your
necks," said he; "and, besides, it is by no means good to get soaked with
cold water when one is hot. You ought to have stopped her."
"Well, she insisted on going on, and whenever she insists on anything,
you know, I haven't the strength to prevent her."
At last Rose, in her pretty way, put an end to the reproaches. "Come,
that's enough scolding; I did wrong, no doubt. But won't anybody
compliment me on my _court-bouillon_? Have you ever known crawfish to
smell as nice as that?"
The lunch was wonderfully gay.
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