"I sent word to Rayssac, as you told me. There is no doubt that
the Blessed Nicholas will be welcome. Who does not love the lives
of the saints? I am not able to give you the explanations that
you ask. How do you wish that I should set about it? It could
only be in a _tête-à-tête_ sometime that I should be able to ask
it; in a letter never. Both the question and answer would be too
indiscreet. In writing, content yourself, my dear, with the light
and shade. Finally, Louise has not written since the long letter.
I sent you in my last some lines with which you ought to be
satisfied. Charles has made a great stir in the country,
especially in the city of gossips; it was for this, it was for
that, that he had to come to Cayla. They asked me what was his
age, his fortune; and I heard it whispered, 'He is too young for
her'; and she thought, 'What have you to bother yourselves about?'
But they interfere with everything--from our wooden shoes to our
consciences. They know everything--thoughts, words, acts,
omissions, everything except how tiresome is their curiosity. I am
for liberty of the press, but not for that of the tongue. They
ought really to arrest some of those in this part of the country!
"Really you are leading the most charming life in the world. Our
pastimes have but little resemblance to yours. One of these days,
which was very cold, we went out, Mimi and I, to have a walk in
the woods, and to pay a visit to the ravens; but, although well
clothed, well muffled, the cold seized us. By good luck we found a
fire of some young shepherds, who very graciously yielded to us
the place of honour, a stone in front of the fire larger than the
others. These children recounted to us all that they knew--one had
just been eating some fry, the other had at home some fresh eggs
laid by a red hen. From time to time they threw on the fire some
handfuls of twigs, with an air of such content that there is no
king who might not have said, 'Why am I not one of you?' If I knew
how to make poetry I would sing 'The Shepherds' Fire.'"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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