ent.

"You are the best woman in the world," he said, touched by the tender
intonation of his name.

This little love-quarrel being finished and settled, the Countess
resumed her light, society tone.

"We shall pick up the Duchess at her hotel and then make a tour of the
Bois. We must show all that sort of thing to Nanette, you know."

The landau awaited them under the porte-cochere.

Bertin seated himself facing the two ladies, and the carriage
departed, the pawing of the horses making a resonant sound against the
over-arching roof of the porte-cochere.

Along the grand boulevard descending toward the Madeleine all the gaiety
of the springtime seemed to have fallen upon the tide of humanity.

The soft air and the sunshine lent to the men a festive air, to the
women a suggestion of love; the bakers' boys deposited their baskets on
the benches to run and play with their brethren, the street urchins; the
dogs appeared in a great hurry to go somewhere; the canaries hanging in
the boxes of the concierges trilled loudly; only the ancient cab-horses
kept their usual sedate pace.

"Oh, what a beautiful day! How good it is to live!" murmured the
Countess.

The painter contemplated both mother and daughter in the dazzling light.
Certainly, they were different, but at the same time so much alike that
the latter was veritably a continuation of the former, made of the same
blood, the same flesh, animated by the same life. Their eyes, above all,
those blue eyes flecked with tiny black drops, of such a brilliant blue
in the daughter, a little faded in the mother, fixed upon him a look so
similar that he expected to hear them make the same replies. And he was
surprised to discover, as he made them laugh and talk, that before him
were two very distinct women, one who had lived and one who was about
to live. No, he did not foresee what would become of that child when her
young mind, influenced by tastes and instincts that were as yet dormant,
should have expanded and developed amid the life of the world. This was
a pretty little new person, ready for chances and for love, ignored and
ignorant, who was sailing out of port like a vessel, while her mother
was returning, having traversed life and having loved!

He was touched at the thought that she had chosen himself, and that she
preferred him still, this woman who had remained so pretty, rocked in
that landau, in the warm air of springtime.

As he expressed his gratitude to