tle wood where the trees were so thick that no
sunbeams could penetrate their foliage; the grass had died from want of
light and fresh air, but the ground was covered with moss, and all
around was a cool dampness which chilled them after the heat of the sun.

"See, we could sit down over there," said Jeanne, looking around her as
they walked on.

Two trees had died, and through the break in the foliage fell a flood of
light, warming the earth, calling to life the grass and dandelion seeds,
and expanding the delicate flowers of the anemone and digitalis. A
thousand winged insects--butterflies, bees, hornets, big gnats looking
like skeleton-flies, ladybirds with red spots on them, beetles with
greenish reflections on their wings, others which were black and
horned--peopled this one warm and luminous spot in the midst of the cool
shadow of the trees.

Jeanne and the vicomte sat down with their heads in the shadow and their
feet in the light. They watched these tiny moving insects that a sunbeam
had called forth, and Jeanne said softly:

"How lovely the country is! Sometimes I wish I were a bee or a butterfly
that I might bury myself in the flowers."

They began talking about their own habits and tastes in a low,
confidential tone. He declared himself tired of his useless life,
disgusted with society; it was always the same, one never found any
truth, any sincerity. She would have liked to know what town-life was
like but she was convinced beforehand that society would never be so
pleasant as a country-life.

The nearer their hearts drew to one another the more studiously did they
address each other as "monsieur" and "mademoiselle"; but they could not
help their eyes smiling and their glances meeting, and it seemed to them
that new and better feelings were entering their hearts, making them
ready to love and take an interest in things they had before cared
nothing about.

When they returned from their walk they found that the baron had gone to
a cave formed in the cliff, called the Chambre aux Desmoiselles, so they
waited for him at the inn, where he did not appear till five o'clock,
and then they started to go home. The boat glided along so smoothly that
it hardly seemed to be moving; the wind came in gentle puffs filling the
sail one second only to let it flap loosely against the mast the next,
and the tired sun was slowly approaching the sea. The stillness around
made them all silent for a long while, but at last