l be ready in a minute."

"General," said Blondet, waking the count, who grumbled and turned over,
like a man who wants his morning sleep. "We are going for a drive; won't
you come?"

A quarter of an hour later the tilbury was slowly rolling along the park
avenue, followed by a liveried groom on horseback.

The morning was a September morning. The dark blue of the sky burst
forth here and there from the gray of the clouds, which seemed the sky
itself, the ether seeming to be the accessory; long lines of ultramarine
lay upon the horizon, but in strata, which alternated with other lines
like sand-bars; these tones changed and grew green at the level of the
forests. The earth beneath this overhanging mantle was moistly warm,
like a woman when she rises; it exhaled sweet, luscious odors, which
yet were wild, not civilized,--the scent of cultivation was added to the
scents of the woods. Just then the Angelus was ringing at Blangy, and
the sounds of the bell, mingling with the wild concert of the forest,
gave harmony to the silence. Here and there were rising vapors, white,
diaphanous.

Seeing these lovely preparations of Nature, the fancy had seized Olympe
Michaud to accompany her husband, who had to give an order to a keeper
whose house was not far off. The Soulanges doctor advised her to walk
as long as she could do so without fatigue; she was afraid of the midday
heat and went out only in the early morning or evening. Michaud now
took her with him, and they were followed by the dog he loved best,--a
handsome greyhound, mouse-colored with white spots, greedy, like all
greyhounds, and as full of vices as most animals who know they are loved
and petted.

So, then the tilbury reached the pavilion of the Rendezvous, the
countess, who stopped to ask how Madame Michaud felt, was told she had
gone into the forest with her husband.

"Such weather inspires everybody," said Blondet, turning his horse at
hazard into one of the six avenues of the forest; "Joseph, you know the
woods, don't you?"

"Yes, monsieur."

And away they went. The avenue they took happened to be one of the
most delightful in the forest; it soon turned and grew narrower, and
presently became a winding way, on which the sunshine flickered through
rifts in the leafy roof, and where the breeze brought odors of lavender,
and thyme, and the wild mint, and that of falling leaves, which sighed
as they fell. Dew-drops on the trees and on the grass were scattere