happy and good, straightforward and
affectionate. Till she was twelve years old she had stayed at home;
then, in spite of her mother's tears, she was sent to the Sacred Heart
Convent. He had kept her strictly immured there, totally ignorant of
worldly things, for he wished her to return to him, at the age of
seventeen, innocent, that he might himself immerse her in a sort of bath
of rational poetry; and, in the fields, surrounded by the fertile earth,
he meant to instruct her, and enlighten her by the sight of the serene
laws of life, the innocent loves and the simple tenderness of the
animals.

And now she was leaving the convent, radiant and brimful of happiness,
ready for every joy and for all the charming adventures that, in the
idle moments of her days and during the long nights, she had already
pictured to herself.

She looked like a portrait by Veronese, with her shining, fair hair,
which looked as though it had given part of its color to her skin, the
creamy skin of a high-born girl, hardly tinted with pink and shaded by a
soft velvety down, which could just be seen when she was kissed by a
sun-ray. Her eyes were blue, an opaque blue, like the eyes of a Dutch
china figure. On her left nostril was a little mole, another on the
right side of her chin, where curled a few hairs so much like the color
of the skin that they could hardly be seen. She was tall, with a
well-developed chest and supple waist. Her clear voice sometimes sounded
too shrill, but her merry laugh made everyone around her feel happy. She
had a way of frequently putting both hands to her forehead, as though to
smooth her hair.

She ran to her father, put her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"Well, are we going to start?" she asked.

He smiled, shook back his white hair, which he wore rather long, and
pointing towards the window:

"How can you think of traveling in such weather?" he said.

Then she pleaded coaxingly and affectionately, "Oh, papa, please do let
us start. It will be fine in the afternoon."

"But your mother will never consent to it."

"Oh, yes, I promise you she shall; I will answer for her."

"Well, if you can persuade your mother, I am quite willing to start."

She hastened towards the baroness's room, for she had looked forward to
this day with great impatience. Since she had entered the convent she
had not left Rouen, as her father would allow no distracting pleasures
before the age he had fixed. Only twice had