"
"You are wrong there, my friend. It was Cathelineau made a soldier of
my brother, not my brother who made a soldier of him. Henri
Larochejaquelin was only a follower of Cathelineau."
"A Marquis obey a poor postillion! Yes, you stuffed him full with such
nonsense as that! You made him fancy himself a General! You cannot fool
me so easily. My son was not a companion for noble men and noble ladies.
A wise man will never consort with those who are above him in degree."
"We all looked on Cathelineau as equal to the best among us," answered
Agatha. "We all strove to see who should show him most honour."
The old woman sat silent for a while, turning her wheel with great
violence, and then she moved abruptly round, and facing Agatha, said:
"Will you answer me one question truly, Mademoiselle?"
Agatha said she would.
"Are you betrothed as yet to your lover?"
"No, indeed," answered she; "I am not betrothed."
"And now answer me another question. Suppose this son of mine, who, as
you say, was as great as the greatest among you, and as noble as the
noblest; suppose he had admired your beauty, and had offered to take you
home to his mother as the wife of his bosom, how would you then have
answered him? What would you then have thought of the postillion? Would
he then have been the equal of gay young counts, and high-blooded
marquises?"
Agatha at first made no reply, and a ruby blush suffused her whole face.
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