Catherine laughed. "Quite as much. I always say, whatever you have to
do, do it thoroughly; and if you have to put people down, let there be
no mistake about it. By that means it won't occur again."
And Catherine went off with a very determined step and expression, her
cap streamers flying on the breeze, to order us a light repast suited to
the lateness of the hour. She was certainly Madame's right hand, and she
ministered to our entertainment no less than to our necessities.
Sunday rose fair and promising; a whole week of sunshine and fine
weather was a phenomenon in Brittany. Quite early in the morning the
town was awake and astir, and it was evident that the good people of
Morlaix were going in for the dissipation of a fete day.
The morning drew on, and everyone seemed to have turned out in their
best apparel, though, to our sorrow, very few costumes made their
appearance. The streets were crowded with sober Bretons, somewhat less
sober than usual. Every vehicle in the town had been pressed into the
service. Every omnibus was loaded inside and out; carts became objects
of envy, and carriages were luxuries for which the drivers exacted their
own terms. The river-side, to right and left, was lined with people, all
hurrying towards the distant shore; for though many had secured seats in
one or other of the delectable vehicles, they were few in comparison
with the numbers that, from motives of economy or exercise, preferred to
walk.
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