ll of life and laughter! There
they were in their graceful, natural clusters, some drooping over her
forehead, some brushing her cheeks, others kissing her neck and ears!
How pretty she was! I recognised my Rose at last in her soft, golden,
shimmering, impalpable, incredible tresses. I passed my fingers lightly
over that silk for love's loom, while my eyes feasted on its delicate
colour. No, indeed, nothing was lost. Rose was beautiful, more beautiful
than ever; and the glad words came crowding to my lips. I forgave her
and was angry with myself for my coldness.

Poor child, she did not know! She had thought, no doubt, that, to go to
Paris, she must absolutely have a hat; and how was she to choose one in
a village-shop? And I told her over and over again how fond I was of
her.

Rose, a little uncomfortable, with crimson cheeks and downcast eyes,
stood awkwardly turning the unfortunate object in her hands. I looked
round: a few people, intent on their business, were hurrying this way
and that; there was no one on the staircase. Then, bursting with
laughter, I dashed the hat to the floor and, with the tip of my shoe,
precipitated it into space....

"Come over to the other side," I said to Rose. "Quick!... Suppose they
brought it back!"

Good-natured as always and pleased at my amusement, she laughed because
I laughed; and, while we ran to the other exit, the masterpiece of
Sainte-Colombe millinery rolled and rolled and hopped from stair to
stair.

3

The bustle of the restaurant and the noise of the street outside
affected me tremendously. I was nervous and excited, with a wild desire
to laugh at everything and nothing. I asked Rose all sorts of questions;
and, whenever any one passed:

"Look!" I said. "Do look!... You're not looking!... There, that's a
pretty dress, a regular Parisienne!... And, over there, by the door:
don't you see that queer woman?"

The girl looked and then turned to me and, before I could prevent her,
bent down and kissed my hand. I wanted to say:

"You mustn't do that, Rose!"

But it was the first charming impulse she had shown: how could I scold
her? Oh, what a miserable thing our education is; and how often should I
not find myself in some ridiculous dilemma!

Besides, I wished this first day of hers to be all happiness and
expectation! And, while we gaily discussed plans for the future, I tried
to guess what she must be feeling, I scrutinised her movements, I
interpreted her wo