Early Candlelight

IV

N one end of her long kitchen, under the westerly Iwindows, Mme. Elmire kept a narrow little sofa. It was a convenient little sofa where she could nap with an eye on the dogs, a nose for the soup kettle, and an ear to Msieu Page’s summons. She kept a wool couurepied ,knitted in rainbow stripes, folded in readiness over its back, and often dropped down without removing her cap. It was on this sofa, tucked under the couvre-pied, that the glory of her situation dawned on Deedee. Andy was all right. Msieu Page himself had gone to him. For her own part she was rested, she was warm. Lifting her head to investigate the warmness, she discovered a great open fire. She lifted herself further, on one arm. A wet snow had begun, and the many-paned windows did not frame familiarity but were blanks of white. The kitchen, with its glowing fire, its rag rugs, its burnished pewter utensils , and Mme. Elmire stirring something in a kettle, was like a scene from one of Fronchet’s stories, foreign and mysterious. “Mme. Elmire!” “Yes, my child.” “Doyou suppose,’’ asked Deedee in the politest French IV IN one end of her long kitchen, under the westerly windows, Mme. Elmire kept a narrow little sofa. It was a convenient little sofa where she could nap with an eye on the dogs, a nose for the soup kettle, and an ear to M'sieu Page's summons. She kept a wool couvr~­ pi~d, knitted in rainbow stripes, folded in readiness over its back, and often dropped down without removing her cap. It was on this sofa, tucked under the cout/r~-pi~d, that the glory of her situation dawned on Deedee. Andy was all right. M'sieu Page himself had gone to him. For her own part she was rested, she was warm. Lifting her head to investigate the warmness, she discovered a great open fire. She lifted herself further, on one arm. A wet snow had begun, and the many-paned windows did not frame familiarity but were blanks of white. The kitchen, with its glowing fire, its rag rugs, its burnished pewter utensils , and Mme. Elmire stirring something in a kettle, was like a scene from one of Fronchet's stories, foreign and mysterious. "Mme. Elmirel" "Yes, my child." "Do you suppose," asked Deedee in the politest French 35 IV IN one end of her long kitchen, under the westerly windows, Mme. Elmire kept a narrow little sofa. It was a convenient little sofa where she could nap with an eye on the dogs, a nose for the soup kettle, and an ear to M'sieu Page's summons. She kept a wool couvr~­ pi~d, knitted in rainbow stripes, folded in readiness over its back, and often dropped down without removing her cap. It was on this sofa, tucked under the cout/r~-pi~d, that the glory of her situation dawned on Deedee. Andy was alI right. M'sieu Page himself had gone to him. For her own part she was rested, she was warm. Lifting her head to investigate the warmness, she discovered a great open fire. She lifted herself further, on one arm. A wet snow had begun, and the many-paned windows did not frame familiarity but were blanks of white. The kitchen, with its glowing fire, its rag rugs, its burnished pewter utensils , and Mme. Elmire stirring something in a kettle, was like a scene from one of Fronchet's stories, foreign and mysterious. "Mme. Elmirel" "Yes, my child." "Do you suppose," asked Deedee in the politest French 36 EARLY CANDLELIGHT Fronchet had taught her, “that I might look into Msieu Page’s parlor?” “Perhaps. If you wait until I can leave the pilau.” Mme. Elmire would not by too ready a consent lessen the value of the privilege. Deedee dropped back to stare at the ceiling in bliss. “Msieu Page,” said Mme. Elmire, stirring slowly, “said that you were to stay here to dinner.” “Truly?” cried Deedee. She sat up again, throwing back the couurc-pied. “Truly?” “Yes, truly,” said Mme. Elmire. She was an awesome figure as she stirred. This was not the small, plump, garrulous one who drank crust coffee in the DuGay cabin. Perhaps the starched mob cap made the difference? Perhaps the snowy apron? Perhaps the important little movements that she made as she stirred and snified and ground up pepper? “I will set a...