hed on the tombstone, was able to take her hands again, and
renew their whispered conversation. They repeated "till to-morrow!" a
dozen times, and still and ever found something more to say. At last
Silvere began to scold.

"Come, you must get down, it is past midnight."

But Miette, with a girl's waywardness, wished him to descend first; she
wanted to see him go away. And as he persisted in remaining, she ended
by saying abruptly, by way of punishment, perhaps: "Look! I am going to
jump down."

Then she sprang from the mulberry-tree, to the great consternation of
Silvere. He heard the dull thud of her fall, and the burst of laughter
with which she ran off, without choosing to reply to his last adieu. For
some minutes he would remain watching her vague figure as it disappeared
in the darkness, then, slowly descending, he regained the Impasse
Saint-Mittre.

During two years they came to the path every day. At the time of their
first meetings they enjoyed some beautiful warm nights. They might
almost have fancied themselves in the month of May, the month of
seething sap, when a pleasant odour of earth and fresh leaves pervades
the warm air. This _renouveau_, this second spring, was like a gift from
heaven which allowed them to run freely about the path and tighten their
bonds of affection.

At last came rain, and snow, and frost. But the disagreeableness of
winter did not keep them away. Miette put on her long brown pelisse, and
they both made light of the bad weather. When the nights were dry and
clear, and puffs of wind raised the hoar frost beneath their footsteps
and fell on their faces like taps from a switch, they refrained from
sitting down. They walked quickly to and fro, wrapped in the pelisse,
their cheeks blue with cold, and their eyes watering; and they laughed
heartily, quite quivering with mirth, at the rapidity of their
march through the freezing atmosphere. One snowy evening they amused
themselves with making an enormous snowball, which they rolled into
a corner. It remained there fully a month, which caused them fresh
astonishment each time they met in the path. Nor did the rain frighten
them. They came to see each other through the heaviest downpours, though
they got wet to the skin in doing so. Silvere would hasten to the spot,
saying to himself that Miette would never be mad enough to come; and
when Miette arrived, he could not find it in his heart to scold her.
In reality he had been expecting h