t
each other. They were unconscious of the flight of time. Their lives
passed as in a morning dream, or a wondrous fairy-tale, where two
lovers wander in a sunny garden among great flowers and singing birds,
or rest, surrounded by attendant sprites, who fulfill each wish before
it is uttered.

They were disagreeably brought back to the realities of life when one
day Anne asked, with her most impassive air, when Madame la Comtesse
thought of leaving, for if she were going to stay any longer, they must
provide themselves with winter clothing. They had reached the end of
September; it rained nearly every day, the streets of the village were
impassable, sitting on the shore out of the question, the equinoctial
gales howled across the country from the tempestuous sea; all the world
had gone home, and Wilhelm and Pilar were the last guests in the
desolate hotel, spending most of the day in their room, where an
inadequate fire spluttered on the hearth. For a fortnight past Anne had
boiled with silent rage, which she sometimes let out on poor, snorting,
asthmatic Fido. She had been absent from Paris since the middle of
July, and had counted on being back by the beginning of September at
the latest, and here was October coming upon them in this God-forsaken
little hole, and her mistress showed no signs of returning home.

Anne's question came like a rough hand to shake Pilar out of sleep.
Like a drowsy child who does not want to get up, she kept her eyes
closed for awhile. Another week! Four days more! Two days more! But
then she had to pack, for Anne exaggerated a slight cold, and at short
intervals let off a dry cough with the suddenness and force of a
pistol-shot, tied her head up in a white shawl, and begged to be
allowed to send to Paris for warm underclothing and her fur cloak. In
the hotel, too, from which all the servants had been dismissed, and
only the landlord, his wife, and a half-grown daughter remained, the
neglect became conspicuous. The rooms were not put in order till late
in the evening, and even then the landlady would come and grumble that
she could not manage so much work, and that was the reason everything
was late. A leg of mutton appeared upon the table three days running,
till nothing was left but the bone. In short, it was not to be
misunderstood that the hotel family wished to be alone.

At last, at the beginning of the second week of October, the return to
Paris took place. During the five hours' r