h fatigued, I fell asleep, my
head against the wall. I wakened suddenly at the touch of something
cool upon my forehead which gave me a sensation as if a rose had rested
there. I opened my eyes and saw the countess, standing a few steps
distant, who said, "I have just come." I rose to leave the room, but as
I bade her good-bye I took her hand; it was moist and trembling.

"Are you ill?" I said.

"Why do you ask that question?" she replied.

I looked at her blushing and confused. "I was dreaming," I replied.

Another time, when Monsieur Origet had announced positively that the
count was convalescent, I was lying with Jacques and Madeleine on the
step of the portico intent on a game of spillikins which we were playing
with bits of straw and hooks made of pins; Monsieur de Mortsauf was
asleep. The doctor, while waiting for his horse to be harnessed, was
talking with the countess in the salon. Monsieur Origet went away
without my noticing his departure. After he left, Henriette leaned
against the window, from which she watched us for some time without
our seeing her. It was one of those warm evenings when the sky is
copper-colored and the earth sends up among the echoes a myriad mingling
noises. A last ray of sunlight was leaving the roofs, the flowers in
the garden perfumed the air, the bells of the cattle returning to their
stalls sounded in the distance. We were all conforming to the silence
of the evening hour and hushing our voices that we might not wake
the count. Suddenly, I heard the guttural sound of a sob violently
suppressed; I rushed into the salon and found the countess sitting by
the window with her handkerchief to her face. She heard my step and made
me an imperious gesture, commanding me to leave her. I went up to her,
my heart stabbed with fear, and tried to take her handkerchief away by
force. Her face was bathed in tears and she fled into her room, which
she did not leave again until the hour for evening prayer. When that was
over, I led her to the terrace and asked the cause of her emotion; she
affected a wild gaiety and explained it by the news Monsieur Origet had
given her.

"Henriette, Henriette, you knew that news when I saw you weeping.
Between you and me a lie is monstrous. Why did you forbid me to dry your
tears? were they mine?"

"I was thinking," she said, "that for me this illness has been a halt
in pain. Now that I no longer fear for Monsieur de Mortsauf I fear for
myself."

She was r