"And who'll give me wood for the oven, and flour and butter for thecakes?" said Nanon, who in her function of prime-minister to Grandetassumed at times enormous importance in the eyes of Eugenie and hermother. "Mustn't rob the master to feast the cousin. You ask him forbutter and flour and wood: he's your father, perhaps he'll give yousome. See! there he is now, coming to give out the provisions."Eugenie escaped into the garden, quite frightened as she heard thestaircase shaking under her father's step. Already she felt theeffects of that virgin modesty and that special consciousness ofhappiness which lead us to fancy, not perhaps without reason, that ourthoughts are graven on our foreheads and are open to the eyes of all.Perceiving for the first time the cold nakedness of her father'shouse, the poor girl felt a sort of rage that she could not put it inharmony with her cousin's elegance. She felt the need of doingsomething for him,--what, she did not know. Ingenuous and truthful,she followed her angelic nature without mistrusting her impressions orher feelings. The mere sight of her cousin had wakened within her thenatural yearnings of a woman,--yearnings that were the more likely todevelop ardently because, having reached her twenty-third year, shewas in the plenitude of her intelligence and her desires. For thefirst time in her life her heart was full of terror at the sight ofher father; in him she saw the master of the fate, and she fanciedherself guilty of wrong-doing in hiding from his knowledge certainthoughts. She walked with hasty steps, surprised to breathe a purerair, to feel the sun's rays quickening her pulses, to absorb fromtheir heat a moral warmth and a new life. As she turned over in hermind some stratagem by which to get the cake, a quarrel--an event asrare as the sight of swallows in winter--broke out between la GrandeNanon and Grandet. Armed with his keys, the master had come to doleout provisions for the day's consumption.。，
"Certainly not. We will make the broth of fowls; the farmers willbring them. I shall tell Cornoiller to shoot some crows; they make thebest soup in the world."。， "Come, Cruchot," said Grandet, "you are one of my friends. I'll showyou what folly it is to plant poplar-trees on good ground.""Do you call the sixty thousand francs that you pocketed for thosethat were in your fields down by the Loire, folly?" said MaitreCruchot, opening his eyes with amazement. "What luck you have had! Tocut down your trees at the very time they ran short of white-wood atNantes, and to sell them at thirty francs!"
"As it is Eugenie's birthday you had better play loto all together,"said Pere Grandet: "the two young ones can join"; and the old cooper,who never played any game, motioned to his daughter and Adolphe."Come, Nanon, set the tables."。，
。， "The farmer from Lande had them in his basket. I asked him for them,and he gave them to me, the darling, for nothing, as an attention!"VAfter two hours' thought and care, during which Eugenie jumped uptwenty times from her work to see if the coffee were boiling, or to goand listen to the noise her cousin made in dressing, she succeeded inpreparing a simple little breakfast, very inexpensive, but which,nevertheless, departed alarmingly from the inveterate customs of thehouse. The midday breakfast was always taken standing. Each took aslice of bread, a little fruit or some butter, and a glass of wine. AsEugenie looked at the table drawn up near the fire with an arm-chairplaced before her cousin's plate, at the two dishes of fruit, the egg-cup, the bottle of white wine, the bread, and the sugar heaped up in asaucer, she trembled in all her limbs at the mere thought of the lookher father would give her if he should come in at that moment. Sheglanced often at the clock to see if her cousin could breakfast beforethe master's return.