emanated that indiscernible perfume? From her dress, her
hair, or her skin? He puzzled over this, and as he was speaking very
close to her, he received full in the face her fresh breath, which
seemed to him just as delicious to inhale.

Then he thought that this evasive perfume which he was trying to
recognize was perhaps only evoked by her charming eyes, and was
merely a sort of deceptive emanation of her young and alluring
grace.

"That is agreed, isn't it, Muscade? As it will be very warm after
breakfast, mamma will not go out. She always feels the heat very
much. We will leave her with your friend, and you shall take me.
They will think that we have gone into the forest. If you knew how
much it will amuse me to see La Grenouillere!"

They reached the iron gate opposite the Seine. A flood of sunshine
fell upon the slumberous, shining river. A slight heat-mist rose
from it, a sort of haze of evaporated water, which spread over the
surface of the stream a faint gleaming vapor.

From time to time, boats passed by, a quick yawl or a heavy passage
boat, and short or long whistles could be heard, those of the trains
which every Sunday poured the citizens of Paris into the suburbs,
and those of the steamboats signaling their approach to pass the
locks at Marly.

But a tiny bell sounded. Breakfast was announced, and they went back
into the house. The repast was a silent one. A heavy July noon
overwhelmed the earth, and oppressed humanity. The heat seemed
thick, and paralyzed both mind and body. The sluggish words would
not leave the lips, and all motion seemed laborious, as if the air
had become a resisting medium, difficult to traverse. Only Yvette,
although silent, seemed animated and nervous with impatience. As
soon as they had finished the last course she said:

"If we were to go for a walk in the forest, it would be deliciously
cool under the trees."

The Marquise murmured with a listless air: "Are you mad? Does anyone
go out in such weather?"

And the young girl, delighted, rejoined: "Oh, well! We will leave
the Baron to keep you company. Muscade and I will climb the hill and
sit on the grass and read."

And turning toward Servigny she asked: "That is understood?"

"At your service, Mam'zelle," he replied.

Yvette ran to get her hat. The Marquise shrugged her shoulders with
a sigh. "She certainly is mad." she said.

Then with an indolence in her amorous and lazy gestures, she gave
her pretty white hand