The Golden Lion of Granpere | Page 5

younger
than himself. Madame Voss in those days always wore a white cap and
a dark stuff gown, which was changed on Sundays for one of black silk,
and brown mittens on her hands, and she went about the house in soft
carpet shoes. She was a conscientious, useful, but not an enterprising
woman; loving her husband much and fearing him somewhat; liking to
have her own way in certain small matters, but willing to be led in
other things so long as those were surrendered to her; careful with her
children, the care of whom seemed to deprive her of the power of
caring for the business of the inn; kind to her niece, good-humoured in
her house, and satisfied with the world at large as long as she might
always be allowed to entertain M. le Cure at dinner on Sundays. Michel
Voss, Protestant though he was, had not the slightest objection to
giving M. le Cure his Sunday dinner, on condition that M. le Cure on
these occasions would confine his conversation to open subjects. M. le
Cure was quite willing to eat his dinner and give no offence.
A word too must be said of Marie Bromar before we begin our story.
Marie Bromar is the heroine of this little tale; and the reader must be
made to have some idea of her as she would have appeared before him
had he seen her standing near her uncle in the long room upstairs of the
hotel at Granpere. Marie had been fifteen when she was brought from
Epinal to Granpere, and had then been a child; but she had now reached
her twentieth birthday, and was a woman. She was not above the

middle height, and might seem to be less indeed in that house, because
her aunt and her uncle were tall; but she was straight, well made, and
very active. She was strong and liked to use her strength, and was very
keen about all the work of the house. During the five years of her
residence at Granpere she had thoroughly learned the mysteries of her
uncle's trade. She knew good wine from bad by the perfume; she knew
whether bread was the full weight by the touch; with a glance of her
eye she could tell whether the cheese and butter were what they ought
to be; in a matter of poultry no woman in all the commune could take
her in; she was great in judging eggs; knew well the quality of linen;
and was even able to calculate how long the hay should last, and what
should be the consumption of corn in the stables. Michel Voss was well
aware before Marie had been a year beneath his roof that she well
earned the morsel she ate and the drop she drank; and when she had
been there five years he was ready to swear that she was the cleverest
girl in Lorraine or Alsace. And she was very pretty, with rich brown
hair that would not allow itself to be brushed out of its crisp half-curls
in front, and which she always wore cut short behind, curling round her
straight, well-formed neck. Her eyes were gray, with a strong shade
indeed of green, but were very bright and pleasant, full of intelligence,
telling stories by their glances of her whole inward disposition, of her
activity, quickness, and desire to have a hand in everything that was
being done. Her father Jean Bromar had come from the same stock with
Michel Voss, and she, too, had something of that aquiline nose which
gave to the innkeeper and his son the look which made men dislike to
contradict them. Her mouth was large, but her teeth were very white
and perfect, and her smile was the sweetest thing that ever was seen.
Marie Bromar was a pretty girl, and George Voss, had he lived so near
to her and not have fallen in love with her, must have been cold indeed.
At the end of these five years Marie had become a woman, and was
known by all around her to be a woman much stronger, both in person
and in purpose, than her aunt; but she maintained, almost
unconsciously, many of the ways in the house which she had assumed
when she first entered it. Then she had always been on foot, to be
everybody's messenger,--and so she was now. When her uncle and aunt
were at their meals she was always up and about,--attending them,

attending the public guests, attending the whole house. And it seemed
as though she herself never sat down to eat or drink. Indeed, it was rare
enough to find her seated at all. She would have a cup of coffee
standing up at the little desk