welling into her eyes. What could be the matter with her that she did
not feel happy now that her love had come back?

'Listen to me,' she said at last. 'We must not stay here. It is that
hole that freezes us! Let us go back to our old home. Give me your
hand.'

They plunged into the depths of the Paradou. Autumn was fast
approaching, and the trees seemed anxious as they stood there with their
yellowing crests from which the leaves were falling one by one. The
paths were already littered with dead foliage soaked with moisture,
which gave out a sound as of sighing beneath one's tread. And away
beyond the lawns misty vapour ascended, throwing a mourning veil over
the blue distance. And the whole garden was wrapped in silence, broken
only by some sorrowful moans that sounded quiveringly.

Serge began to shiver beneath the avenue of tall trees, along which they
were walking.

'How cold it is here!' said he in an undertone.

'You are cold indeed,' murmured Albine, sadly. 'My hand is no longer
able to warm you. Shall I wrap you round with part of my dress? Come,
all our love will now be born afresh.'

She led him to the parterre, the flower-garden. The great thicket-like
rosary was still fragrant with perfume, but there was a tinge of
bitterness in the scent of the surviving blossoms, and their foliage,
which had expanded in wild profusion, lay strewn upon the ground. Serge
displayed such unwillingness to enter the tangled jungle, that they
lingered on its borders, trying to detect in the distance the paths
along which they had passed in the spring-time. Albine recollected
every little nook. She pointed to the grotto where the marble woman lay
sleeping; to the hanging screens of honeysuckle and clematis; the fields
of violets; the fountain that spurted out crimson carnations; the steps
down which flowed golden gilliflowers; the ruined colonnade, in the
midst of which the lilies were rearing a snowy pavilion. It was
there that they had been born again beneath the sunlight. And she
recapitulated every detail of that first day together, how they had
walked, and how fragrant had been the air beneath the cool shade. Serge
seemed to be listening, but he suddenly asked a question which showed
that he had not understood her. The slight shiver which made his face
turn pale never left him.

Then she led him towards the orchard, but they could not reach it. The
stream was too much swollen. Serge no longer thought of taking Albin