“That boy is not my brother. My brother is in Paris with maman,” Marie Josephine answered a little indignantly, but the woman was walking away and did not seem to have heard her. Marie Josephine was not used to speaking to strangers, but the dark young woman had been very kind to Flambeau. Bertran was very hungry and he was cross because he had to wait for his omelette. He was a very fat boy indeed, but he rode well and was not in the least tired. When Madame le Pont suggested his coming into the coach for a while and letting his servant lead his horse, he said, “Ride in the stuffy coach and hear the girls chattering! No, I will not, Madame!” They left him sitting at the table, waited on by his servant. A stone in his horse’s shoe had been the cause of their arriving after the others. It was thought best for the coach to start on as it could not make such good time, and so they waved their hands at Bertran and rumbled on toward the forest. Two people in the coach did not wave. They were Madame le Pont and Marie Josephine. The latter was more than ever out of sorts with Bertran. It had come over her suddenly that it was indeed Bertran and not Lisle who was with them. So, when he had answered Madame about the coach, she had said to him, “It is not you we want in the coach, Bertran. It is some one else.” He had answered, sitting down at his déjeuner as he spoke: “Is that so, Mademoiselle Spitfire! Well, I shall do as I like. When I wish to ride inside I shall do so, and when I don’t, I won’t!” Then he had gone on calmly with his omelette. They thundered into the forest and its spicy fragrance greeted them. The air was cool there, and the dim wood paths seemed like fairy paths to Marie Josephine. It was so peaceful that it made them all think of Pigeon Valley. They grew more cheerful right away, and even Madame le Pont remarked that it was delightful to think of seeing Les Vignes again. She had purchased some fruit at the inn and Denise held a bunch of amber-colored grapes high above Cécile’s head and said, “Bite one!” Madame le Pont remarked, “That is not the way a young lady conducts herself!” but she did not seem to be really shocked at all. Hortense yawned and put her head back on the cushions, her curls falling about her shoulders. “You look like a little girl to-day, Hortense. I thought you looked such a very grand young lady when you danced the minuet with Lisle the night before last.” They were still driving through the woods and every now and then a startled bird would make a great stir in the trees or underbrush as they dashed along. Marie Josephine did not realize what she had said at first, but when they all turned and looked at her and Denise exclaimed: “When you saw her dancing with Lisle! What do you mean, Marie Josephine? You were not at the ball!” she knew how stupid she had been and the telltale color flew to her cheeks. “How could you have seen me dance at the ball when you were fast asleep in bed?” put in Hortense.