Litchfield enquirer., 1874-03-05

''Is Madame at home 2" he says to the boy with the sunny face
 ''Nais sui, Monsieur" The boy pulls off h's black cap with much show of re- spect. To himself he says, as Monsieur Furet passes on, Gas if every one does not know that the mistress is always at home. Attez, she could not be spared"
 Tue cocks and hens are scared by Mon sieur's stick, which he strikes against the ground at every step, and they set up 8 growing and cackling duet. A huge dog, chained out of sight behind the fagot stack, barks furiously. At the noise the miller's wife comes out upon the top of the flight of stone steps that lead up the house.
 Madame Roussel was perhaps pretty, twenty years ago. Now her round, once peach -colored cheeks, show a brick-dust red through their foury coating. Her blue eyes are dimmed by the foury con- dition of her long. light eyelashes. She | is little soft bundle of woman, with a mouth only made to say yes. "Mo,s Die~ it is then Monsieur Furet who does me the honor to climb the hill to pay me visit" Then she calls shrilly, "Merie Eugenie." Madame Roussel has the customary briskness of small woman, spite of her soft looks, and she turns round to see if her call is heard.
 A freckled, sandy-haired girl with a. wide, grinning mouth, and close linen cap, comes out of low green door on the right of the steps. "Ienez, Madame" Marie is wiping her hands on her apron while she speaks. 'sMamselle Eugene has not yet come back from Bolbec," and then having dried her hands. she plants them on her hips and stands with arms akimbo gazing at her mistress as if this piece of forgetfulness were something un usual Madame Rousel claps her fat, pink palm on her forehead 'ISens, Jean neton, but thou art foolish, ,-and when the dear child has even said she would not come back till three o'clock-my memory looks sharply at the gaping gawk, as much out here and dust them, dust them, dust them twice, nearest thou,-so that no l flour may stick to the tails of Monsieurs | coat"
 By this time Monsieur is within hearing and it. is inconceivable that Marie should | set up that shout of laughter at her mis- tress's words. Madame becomes as red as a cider apple by the time the er- avocat has reached her.
 ''Be welcome, I beg of you" :" she smiles with hearty courtesy, ''but itis desolating | that neither Monsieur Roussel nor my | daughter should be at home." Monsieur Furet stands hat in hand wait ing for his excitable hostess to seat her self, but she does not understand his hes itation; instead she spins round like a cock-chafer
 ''Ah, but then! is it possible, that Monsieur has made the ascent on purpose to see the MScanique but it is wonder ful, the Mscaniqate."
 She darts up the stone steps again into the house.
 Monsieur Furet is perplexed, but he is glad to be able to w1pe his forehead with the huge yellow handkerchief he keeps in his hat. He has hardly finished when Madame comes back with a key; she speaks eagerly from the top of the steps. "Ienez, Monsieur. can now show you al,-from the Mscanique, which is subter- ranean, to the rooms above. An, but it is wonderful! Does Monsieur know why the flour of the mill of Veron has 8 so great reputation It is because, Mon- sieur, it grinds seven times. can show to Monsieur flour of seven different de- grees. The first, we'll understood, is brown; and the last,-ah, Mon dieu! it is only fit for the angels. Tenez, Mon sieur, here is sack ready to go up to the Chateau"
 She comes quickly down the steps, her we'll -foured face so far in advance of her body that it is wonderful she does not top pie over, runs to the foremost of row of sacks beyond the low. green door, unties 1t, and comes back with handful of ex- quisitely white flour.
 She lifts her hand to the nose of MOn- sieur Furet before he sees her intention, and in an instant the subtle powder spreads, and his face IS as white as Mad anne Roussel's! Hat, spotless coat and waistcoat receive more or less, and. Mon- sieur Furet's countenance IS rueful to be- hold.
 "Oh, Mon dieu how giddy am. An, Monsieur, I am in despairss but wait, I know 8 method"
 She claps both hands together, to free them of flour, thereby enveleping her vis- itor in fresh white cloud, runs up the steps, and is again beside him with huge brush, before he has time to get out word.
 ''Ah, Madame, thank you thousand times; but it is enough, ,-I wilt not give you this trouble.''
 "Cest ca,-c'est cG,"-this in accompa- niment to the vigorous brushing under which Monsieur Furet's shoulders shrink little. "Aha! Monsieur is quite an- other thing now" Monsieur bows, but she gives him no chance of getting word in; ''and now, ,"-she seats herself, brush in hand, with long gasp of fatigue, ,-''it is quite possible that Monsieur will not care to mount all those stairs and see the MScanigtte up above, as have had the naaladdresse so to incommode him, and there is no denying that the stair ladder is foury; still, if Monsieur has the slight est desire to go up, the view from the top is wonderful, and"
 She makes movement to rise from her chair, but at this, his first opportunity, Monsieur lays his hand on her arm, and clears his throat.
 Madame" he bows profoundly, s.do not disturb yourself, beg; my business is with you absolutely, and not with the mill. have no sister, Madame,-no fe- male relatives, so 1t IS necessary that I speak for myself Madame, I ask your permission to pay my court to your daugh- ter, Mademoiselle Eugenie Roussel."
 Madame Roussers eyelids have winked so rapidly during this precisely spoken speech that she has shaken some of the flour from her light eyelashes into her eyes; this sets them smarting, and she rubs them with her pink knuckles.
 This demonstration puzzles the suitor. He has risen and removed his hat, and now he stands with 1t in his hand, half sheepish, half conquered.
 Madame Roussel looks at him, and she smiles. @
 '.HS! But Monsieur must pardon the flour, for it is in my eyes at this moment. Monsieur must not, for all the world, think am insensible to the great honor he wishes to confer on our daughter, only'' -she puts her head on one slde, and screws up the suffering eyes,-'1 ask my self if Monsieur knows how young is our Eugenie? She is but seventeen, Mon sieur."
 Madame" Monsieur says coldly, eff you object. I withdraw my pretensions. I am willing to make your daughter the richest woman in Veron, and to join my sxnko c&c 4e n