, which wavers a little owing to the brilliancy of the light; and
that arm dewy with heat appears to me admirably moulded, with bold, pure
lines.

She is dressed like her companions, in a coarse linen skirt, whose
uncouth folds disguise her hips, and a calico smock imprisoned in a
black laced bodice, a sort of shapeless, barbarous cuirass. A
broad-brimmed straw hat, adorned with a faded ribbon, casts its shadow
on her shoulders; but, when she bends her head, I see the glint of her
hair, whose tightly bound and twisted masses shine like coils of gold.

The rather powerful neck is beautifully modelled. It is delicately
hollowed at the nape, where a little silver chain accentuates the
gentle curve. I can see almost nothing of her figure under the clumsy
clothes, but its proportions appear to me accurate and fairly slender.

I feel inclined to go away without a word; my fastidious eyes bring me
misgivings. When the first taste is good, why risk a second? But one of
the reapers has seen me. He bids me a friendly good-morning; and, before
I have time to answer, she has turned round.

It is so rare, in our country districts, to see a beautiful woman that,
for an instant, I blame the charm of the hour and accuse the friendly
light of complicity. But little by little her perfection overcomes my
doubts; and, the more I watch her, the lovelier I think her. The almost
statuesque slowness of her movements, the vigorous line of her body, the
glad colours that adorn her mouth, her cheeks and her bare arms seem to
make her share in the health of the soil. The fair human sheaf is bound
to nature like the golden sheaves that surround it.

Without stirring, we two stand looking at each other face to face.

2

O miracle of beauty, sovran of happiness and magnet of wandering eyes,
that day it shone in the noon-day sun like a star on the forehead of
that unhappy life; and it and it alone stayed my steps!

But for it, should I have dreamt, in the presence of that humble girl,
of one of those quests which appeal to the hearts of us women, hearts
fed on eternal illusions? But for it, should I have suspected a
sorrowing soul in the depths of those limpid eyes? And, at this moment,
should I be asking of my weakness the strength that constrains, of my
doubts the faith that saves, of my pity the tenderness that consoles and
heals?

3

I had moved to go, happy without knowing why; I hastened my steps. With
my soul heavier and my feet