“What a minx it is!” I said to myself. “I should have no chance at all if that door gave way.” I had half a mind to open it myself and give her a good hug, but I hate to yield about anything, so I lay still and after a little while she got tired and stopped her pounding; then I could hear her walking slowly down the path. I came out of my corner and began to laugh, and cough and laugh again till I was nearly choking, and when I got over the fit, and stopped to wipe my eyes, I heard a voice behind me saying, “You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” It nearly knocked me flat, but I turned my head and there on top of the wall was Martine looking at me. “I’ve got you now, you old joker!” she cried. “I’m caught, sure enough,” said I, and we both laughed to our hearts’ content. As soon as I had let her in she stood sternly before me, then grabbed me by the beard. “Say you’re sorry,” she cried. You know how it is at confession; you repent, meaning to do it again the next opportunity, so I replied meekly, “_Mea culpa!_” But she kept pulling me to and fro, declaring that it was a disgrace for an old white-beard like me to have no more sense than a baby; finally she gave me a last pull and tap on the cheek, and threw her arms round my neck saying, “Why didn’t you come to me, Father, when you know how much I want you?” “My dear little girl, I will explain all about it.” “You can explain as we go along, you are coming home with me this minute.” “Martine, you must give me time to pack up my things.” “I’ll do your packing,” cried she, and with that she threw an old cloak over my shoulders, jammed my hat on my head, picked up my bundle, and told me to come along. I sat down on the step and said there was no hurry, which made her furiously angry. “Why do you object to coming to my house?” said she. “I don’t object, I know sooner or later I shall have to do it.” “That’s a pretty way to talk,” said she. “I don’t believe you care anything about me!” “You know very well how much I love you, darling! but you are dearer to me in my own house, than in an outsider’s!” “Do you mean to say I am an outsider?” “You are half one, you see!” “Nothing of the sort! I am just myself, as you know perfectly well; his wife, of course, just as he is my husband, and I go his way as long as he goes mine, but you can set your mind at rest, he will be perfectly charmed to have you in the house, or else I will know the reason why!” “I’ve had plenty of lodgers of that sort,” said I, “when our Lord of Nevers billeted them on us, but I had rather not be one my own self.” “You will have to learn,” said she. “Come, I am waiting.” “Agreed; but on condition that you will take me in on my own terms.” “You are a perfect old tyrant! but there, I promise!” “On your honor?” “Yes, yes, now that’s enough talking, I won’t wait another minute,” and she seized my arm in such a grip that I had to go willy-nilly.