Germain’s prospective father-in-law came to meet him, and, after five minutes spent in questioning him concerning his whole family, he added this phrase, invariably used to question courteously those whom one meets as to the object of their journey:  “So you have come out this way for a little ride, eh?”

“I came to see you,” replied the ploughman, “and to offer you this little gift of game from my father-in-law, and to say, also from him, that you would know my purpose in coming.”

“Ha! ha!” laughed Pere Leonard, patting his round paunch, “I see, I hear, I understood!” And he added, with a wink:  “You’ll not be alone in paying your respects, my young friend.  There are three in the house already, dancing attendance like you.  I don’t turn anybody away, and I should be hard put to it to decide against any one of them, for they’re all good matches.  However, on account of Pere Maurice and the quality of your lands, I should prefer you.  But my daughter’s of age and mistress of her own property; so she will do as she pleases.  Go in and introduce yourself; I hope you may draw the lucky number!”

“Pardon, excuse me,” replied Germain, greatly surprised to find himself one of several, where he had expected to be alone.  “I didn’t know that your daughter was already provided with suitors, and I didn’t come to dispute for her with others.”

“If you thought that because you were slow in coming,” retorted Pere Leonard, with undiminished good-humor, “you would catch my daughter napping, you made a very great mistake, my boy.  Catherine has something to attract husbands with, and she’ll have only too many to choose from.  But go into the house, I tell you, and don’t lose courage.  She’s a woman worth disputing for.”

And, pushing Germain by the shoulders with rough good-humor, “Here, Catherine,” he cried, entering the house, “here’s one more!”

This jovial but vulgar manner of being introduced to the widow, in the presence of her other suitors, put the finishing touch to the ploughman’s confusion and annoyance.  He felt ill at ease, and stood for some moments without venturing to turn his eyes on the fair one and her court.

The Widow Guerin was well made, and did not lack freshness.  But the expression of her face and her costume repelled Germain at the first glance.  She had a forward, self-satisfied air, and her mob-cap trimmed with a triple row of lace, her silk apron, and her black lace fichu were decidedly not in harmony with the idea he had conceived of a sedate, serious-minded widow.

This elegance in dress and her free and easy manners made her appear old and ugly to him, although she was neither.  He thought that such coquettish attire and such playful manners would be well suited to the age and keen wit of little Marie, but that such pleasantry on the widow’s part was heavy and stale, and that there was no distinction in the way she wore her fine clothes.