That was all. But the following Sunday, on seeing them, she smiled
with the kindly smile of a woman who understood their shyness,
and she asked:
"What are you doing here? Are you watching the grass grow?"
Luc, cheered up, smiled: "P'raps."
She continued: "It's not growing fast, is it?"
He answered, still laughing: "Not exactly."
She went on. But when she came back with her pail full of milk,
she stopped before them and said:
"Want some? It will remind you of home."
She had, perhaps instinctively, guessed and touched the right spot.
Both were moved. Then not without difficulty, she poured some
milk into the bottle in which they had brought their wine. Luc
started to drink, carefully watching lest he should take more than
his share. Then he passed the bottle to Jean. She stood before
them, her hands on her hips, her pail at her feet, enjoying the
pleasure that she was giving them. Then she went on, saying:
"Well, bye-bye until next Sunday!"
For a long time they watched her tall form as it receded in the
distance, blending with the background, and finally disappeared.
The following week as they left the barracks, Jean said to Luc:
"Don't you think we ought to buy her something good?"
They were sorely perplexed by the problem of choosing something
to bring to the dairy maid. Luc was in favor of bringing her some
chitterlings; but Jean, who had a sweet tooth, thought that candy
would be the best thing. He won, and so they went to a grocery to
buy two sous' worth, of red and white candies.
This time they ate more quickly than usual, excited by anticipation.
Jean was the first one to notice her. "There she is," he said; and
Luc answered: "Yes, there she is."
She smiled when she saw them, and cried:
"Well, how are you to-day?"
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