Here Mariette the cook held sway. Her power was absolute. Before her despotism people and furniture alike trembled. Happily, the wide spaces afforded room to escape her vigilant eye. There were shadowed corners where one could manage to keep out of sight, especially under the vast chimney mantel. The chimney had been put upon the retired list like an aged servant. I used not to know why; but I divine that it was from reasons of economy, for it was capable of consuming whole forests. Under its shelter one could make oneself quite comfortable on the old stone fire-dogs, that were cemented into their place. Bending back the head, one could see daylight at the top. In autumn, when night comes early, I used to look up to watch for a star. One night even, reluctantly crossing the kitchen, then dark and deserted, I was terrified by a square of light lying white upon the hearth-stone like an unfolded sheet. Was it the cast-off garment of a ghost? Perhaps they throw them off that way, at the moment of vanishing, leaving them as an incontrovertible witness to their visit. The moon was playing upon the roof. The more coming and going there was, the better Mariette was pleased. Her tongue itched in solitude. As a general thing the postman, the farmer, the men who worked in the garden made their appearance there at regular intervals. Each and all were served with a glass of red wine, which they drank with unfailing observance of the rites. They lifted the elbow and said, “To your health,” after which it was permitted to drain the glass; and if a second were desired, even without the slightest interval, the same formula must be observed. Never a one of them balked at its repetition. I have sometimes drunk in their company, no doubt from the same glass. Folk would come also from the mountain villages to get father when a case was serious. Father, who was a doctor, never demurred at going with them. I can still hear his words of greeting, at once compassionate and resolute, when he crossed Mariette’s empire and found it occupied. “What is wrong now, friend?” Mariette would scan all new-comers with a wary yet perspicacious eye, which unmasked frauds and congealed the blood in the veins of those unlucky wights whose arrival coincided with the sacred hour of a meal. I have been present at many an outpouring of peasant woes. They came out little by little, with a certain reticence of grief, as if illness were a disgraceful thing. I did not understand this reserve; indeed, it seemed to me simply slowness of speech.