nt
beyond. And they followed it to the grottoes. There was, in the rear
of the park, a semicircle of five large niches of rocks surmounted by
balustrades and separated by gigantic Terminus gods. One of these gods,
at a corner of the monument, dominated all the others by his monstrous
nudity, and lowered on them his stony look.

"When my father bought Joinville," she said, "the grottoes were only
ruins, full of grass and vipers. A thousand rabbits had made holes in
them. He restored the Terminus gods and the arcades in accordance with
prints by Perrelle, which are preserved at the Bibliotheque Nationale.
He was his own architect."

A desire for shade and mystery led them toward the arbor near the
grottoes. But the noise of footsteps which they heard, coming from the
covered alley, made them stop for a moment, and they saw, through the
leaves, Montessuy, with his arm around the Princess Seniavine's waist.
Quietly they were walking toward the palace. Jacques and Therese, hiding
behind the enormous Terminus god, waited until they had passed.

Then she said to Dechartre, who was looking at her silently:

"That is amazing! I understand now why the Princess Seniavine, this
winter, asked my father to advise her about buying horses."

Yet Therese admired her father for having conquered that beautiful
woman, who passed for being hard to please, and who was known to be
wealthy, in spite of the embarrassments which her mad disorder had
caused her. She asked Jacques whether he did not think the Princess was
beautiful. He said she had elegance. She was beautiful, doubtless.

Therese led Jacques to the moss-covered steps which, ascending behind
the grottoes, led to the Gerbe-de-l'Oise, formed of leaden reeds in
the midst of a great pink marble vase. Tall trees closed the park's
perspective and stood at the beginning of the forest. They walked under
them. They were silent under the faint moan of the leaves.

He pressed her in his arms and placed kisses on her eyelids. Night was
descending, the first stars were trembling among the branches. In the
damp grass sighed the frog's flutes. They went no farther.

When she took with him, in darkness, the road to the palace, the taste
of kisses and of mint remained on her lips, and in her eyes was the
image of her lover. She smiled under the lindens at the nymphs who had
seen the tears of her childhood. The Swan lifted in the sky its cross of
stars, and the moon mirrored its slender horn