As he was about to enter, Emile found that his heart was beating so fast--a fact that he attributed to his rapid climb up the side of the cliff--that he paused a moment to recover himself and make his entrée with due dignity. He heard the sound of a spinning-wheel inside, and no music had ever struck more pleasantly on his ear. Then the dull hissing of the little instrument of toil ceased and he heard Gilberte's voice saying: "Well, it's quite true, Janille, that I don't enjoy myself the days that father is away. If you weren't here with me, I should be bored outright!" "Work, my child, work," replied Janille; "that's the way to avoid being bored." "But I do work, and still I am not amused. I know well enough that there's no need of being amused; but I always am, and am always ready to laugh and jump when father's with us. Confess, little mother, that if we had to live long away from him, we should lose all our happiness and good spirits! Oh! it would be impossible to live without father! I should much rather die at once." "Well, well, those are pretty ideas!" said Janille. "What in heaven's name will you think about next, little head? Your father is still young and well, thank God! so what has put all this nonsense into your head these last two or three days?" "What do you say? these last two or three days?" "Why, yes, fully two or three days; several times you have chosen to worry about what would become of us if we should lose your dear father, which God forbid!" "Lose him!" cried Gilberte. "Oh! don't speak of such a thing; it makes me shudder, and I never thought of it. Oh! no, I could never think of it!" "Well, upon my word, if you're not crying! Fie! mademoiselle, do you want to make your dear Mère Janille cry too? Oh! Monsieur Antoine would be very pleased to see you with your eyes all red when he comes home! He would be quite capable of crying too, the dear man! Come, you haven't walked enough to-day, my child; fasten up your wool and we'll go and feed the hens. It will amuse you to see the pretty partridges your little Blanche has just hatched." Emile heard the motherly kiss from Janille which closed this speech, and as the two women would surely find him at the door, he stepped back and coughed slightly to warn them of his presence. "Someone in the courtyard!" cried Gilberte. "I am so happy; I am sure it's father!" And she ran eagerly to meet Emile, so fast, that when she found herself face to face with him on the threshold, she almost fell into his arms. But great as her confusion was when she discovered her mistake, it was less than Emile's; for, in her innocence, she threw it off with a hearty laugh, while the young man lost his self-possession altogether at the bare idea that he had been very near receiving an embrace which was not intended for him.