he judged Babette, he began to examine his own conduct. He had allowed
wild thoughts to chase each other in his heart, and a fierce tornado to break
loose. Could he confess to Babette, indeed, every thought which in the hour
of temptation might have led him to wrong doing? He had lost her ring, and
that very loss had won him back to her. Could she expect him to confess?
He felt as if his heart would break while he thought of it, and while so many
memories lingered on his mind. He saw her again, as she once stood before
him, a laughing, spirited child; many loving words, which she had spoken
to him out of the fulness of her love, came like a ray of sunshine into his
heart, and soon it was all sunshine as he thought of Babette. But she must
also confess she was wrong; that she should do.
He went to the mill-he went to confession. It began with a kiss, and
ended with Rudy being considered the offender. It was such a great fault to
doubt Babette’s truth-it was most abominable of him. Such mistrust, such
violence, would cause them both great unhappiness. This certainly was very
true, she knew that; and therefore Babette preached him a little sermon,
with which she was herself much amused, and during the preaching of
which she looked quite lovely. She acknowledged, however, that on one
point Rudy was right. Her godmother’s nephew was a fop: she intended to
burn the book which he had given her, so that not the slightest thing should
remain to remind her of him.
“Well, that quarrel is all over,” said the kitchen-cat. “Rudy is come back,
and they are friends again, which they say is the greatest of all pleasures.”
“I heard the rats say one night,” said the kitchen-cat, “that the greatest
pleasure in the world was to eat tallow candles and to feast on rancid bacon.
Which are we to believe, the rats or the lovers?”
“Neither of them,” said the parlor-cat; “it is always the safest plan to
believe nothing you hear.”
The greatest happiness was coming for Rudy and Babette. The happy
day, as it is called, that is, their wedding-day, was near at hand. They were
not to be married at the church at Bex, nor at the miller’s house; Babette’s
