lender
supports, and, here and there, bunches of red carnations and peasant
roses.

Suddenly, at the end of a long avenue, he discovered Reine Vincart,
seated on the steps before an arched door, communicating with the
kitchen. A plum-tree, loaded with its violet fruit, spread its light
shadow over the young girl's head, as she sat shelling fresh-gathered
peas and piling the faint green heaps of color around her. The sound of
approaching steps on the grassy soil caused her to raise her head, but
she did not stir. In his intense emotion, Julien thought the alley never
would come to an end. He would fain have cleared it with a single bound,
so as to be at once in the presence of Mademoiselle Vincart, whose
immovable attitude rendered his approach still more difficult.
Nevertheless, he had to get over the ground somehow at a reasonable pace,
under penalty of making himself ridiculous, and he therefore found plenty
of time to examine Reine, who continued her work with imperturbable
gravity, throwing the peas as she shelled them into an ash-wood pail at
her feet.

She was bareheaded, and wore a striped skirt and a white jacket fitted to
her waist. The checkered shadows cast by the tree made spots of light and
darkness over her face and her uncovered neck, the top button of her
camisole being unfastened on account of the heat. De Buxieres had been
perfectly well recognized by her, but an emotion, at least equal to that
experienced by the young man, had transfixed her to the spot, and a
subtle feminine instinct had urged her to continue her employment, in
order to hide the sudden trembling of her fingers. During the last month,
ever since the adventure in the hut, she had thought often of Julien; and
the remembrance of the audacious kiss which the young de Buxieres had so
impetuously stolen from her neck, invariably brought the flush of shame
to her brow. But, although she was very indignant at the fiery nature of
his caress, as implying a want of respect little in harmony with Julien's
habitual reserve, she was astonished at herself for not being still more
angry. At first, the affront put upon her had roused a feeling of
indignation, but now, when she thought of it, she felt only a gentle
embarrassment, and a soft beating of the heart. She began to reflect that
to have thus broken loose from all restraint before her, this timid youth
must have been carried away by an irresistible burst of passion, and any
woman, however hig