XIII. AT THE MILL

What strange creatures human beings are," said the parlor-catto the kitchen-cat; "Babette and Rudy have fallen out with each other.She sits and cries, and he thinks no more about her."    "That does not please me to hear," said the kitchen-cat.    "Nor me either," replied the parlor-cat; "but I do not take itto heart. Babette may fall in love with the red whiskers, if shelikes, but he has not been here since he tried to get on the roof."    The powers of evil carry on their game both around us and withinus. Rudy knew this, and thought a great deal about it. What was itthat had happened to him on the mountain? Was it really a ghostlyapparition, or a fever dream? Rudy knew nothing of fever, or any otherailment. But, while he judged Babette, he began to examine his ownconduct. He had allowed wild thoughts to chase each other in hisheart, and a fierce tornado to break loose. Could he confess toBabette, indeed, every thought which in the hour of temptation mighthave led him to wrong doing? He had lost her ring, and that veryloss had won him back to her. Could she expect him to confess? He feltas if his heart would break while he thought of it, and while somany memories lingered on his mind. He saw her again, as she oncestood before him, a laughing, spirited child; many loving words, whichshe had spoken to him out of the fulness of her love, came like aray of sunshine into his heart, and soon it was all sunshine as hethought of Babette. But she must also confess she was wrong; thatshe should do.    He went to the mill- he went to confession. It began with akiss, and ended with Rudy being considered the offender. It was such agreat 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 Babettepreached him a little sermon, with which she was herself muchamused, and during the preaching of which she looked quite lovely. Sheacknowledged, however, that on one point Rudy was right. Hergodmother's nephew was a fop: she intended to burn the book which hehad given her, so that not the slightest thing should remain to remindher of him.    "Well, that quarrel is all over," said the kitchen-cat. "Rudy iscome back, and they are friends again, which they say is thegreatest of all pleasures."    "I heard the rats say one night," said the kitchen-cat, "thatthe greatest pleasure in the world was to eat tallow candles and tofeast on rancid bacon. Which are we to believe, the rats or thelovers?"    "Neither of them," said the parlor-cat; "it is always the safestplan to believe nothing you hear."    The greatest happiness was coming for Rudy and Babette. Thehappy day, as it is called, that is, their wedding-day, was near athand. They were not to be married at the church at Bex, nor at themiller's house; Babette's godmother wished the nuptials to besolemnized at Montreux, in the pretty little church in that town.The miller was very anxious that this arrangement should be agreed to.He alone knew what the newly-married couple would receive fromBabette's godmother, and he knew also that it was a wedding presentwell worth a concession. The day was fixed, and they were to travel asfar as Villeneuve the evening before, to be in time for the steamerwhich sailed in the morning for Montreux, and the godmother'sdaughters were to dress and adorn the bride.    "Here in this house there ought to be a wedding-day kept," saidthe parlor-cat, "or else I would not give a mew for the whole affair."    "There is going to be great feasting," replied the kitchen-cat."Ducks and pigeons have been killed, and a whole roebuck hangs onthe wall. It makes me lick my lips when I think of it."    "To-morrow morning they will begin the journey."    Yes, to-morrow! And this evening, for the last time, Rudy andBabette sat in the miller's house as an engaged couple. Outside, theAlps glowed in the evening sunset, the evening bells chimed, and thechildren of the sunbeam sang, "Whatever happens is best."