"You would prefer Bastien the swineherd?" said Germain bitterly. "A fellow with eyes like the beasts he tends!" "I would overlook his eyes for the sake of his eighteen years." Germain had a horrible feeling of jealousy.--"Well, well," he said, "I see that your mind is set on Bastien. It's a queer idea, all the same!" "Yes, it would be a queer idea," replied little Marie, laughing heartily, "and he would be a queer husband. You could make him believe whatever you chose. For instance, I picked up a tomato in monsieur le curé's garden the other day; I told him it was a fine red apple, and he bit into it like a glutton. If you had seen the wry face he made! _Mon Dieu_, how ugly he was!" "You don't love him then, as you laugh at him?" "That wouldn't be any reason. But I don't love him: he's cruel to his little sister, and he isn't clean." "Very good! and you don't feel inclined toward anybody else?" "What difference does it make to you, Germain?" "No difference, it's just for something to talk about. I see, my girl, that you have a sweetheart in your head already." "No, Germain, you're mistaken, I haven't one yet; it may come later: but as I shall not marry till I have saved up a little money, it will be my lot to marry late and to marry an old man." "Well, then, take an old man now." "No indeed! when I am no longer young myself, it will be all the same to me; now it would be different." "I see, Marie, that you don't like me; that's very clear," said Germain angrily, and without weighing his words. Little Marie did not reply. Germain leaned over her: she was asleep; she had fallen back, conquered, struck down, as it were, by drowsiness, like children who fall asleep while they are prattling. Germain was well pleased that she had not heard his last words; he realized that they were unwise, and he turned his back upon her, trying to change the current of his thoughts. But it was of no avail, he could not sleep, nor could he think of anything else than what he had just said. He walked around the fire twenty times, walked away and returned; at last, feeling as excited as if he had swallowed a mouthful of gunpowder, he leaned against the tree that sheltered the two children and watched them sleeping. [Illustration: Chapter IX _The child knelt on the girl's skirt, clasped his little hands, and began to repeat his prayer with interest and fervently at first, for he knew the beginning very well_.]