't the strength to prevent her."

At last Rose, in her pretty way, put an end to the reproaches. "Come,
that's enough scolding; I did wrong, no doubt. But won't anybody
compliment me on my _court-bouillon_? Have you ever known crawfish to
smell as nice as that?"

The lunch was wonderfully gay. As they were twenty, and wished to have
a real rehearsal of the wedding feast, the table had been set in a large
gallery adjoining the ordinary dining-room. This gallery was still
bare, but throughout the meal they talked incessantly of how they would
embellish it with shrubs, garlands of foliage, and clumps of flowers.
During the dessert they even sent for a ladder with the view of
indicating on the walls the main lines of the decorations.

For a moment or so Rose, previously so talkative, had lapsed into
silence. She had eaten heartily, but all the color had left her face,
which had assumed a waxy pallor under her heavy hair, which was still
damp. And when she wished to ascend the ladder herself to indicate
how some ornament should be placed, her legs suddenly failed her, she
staggered, and then fainted away.

Everybody was in consternation, but she was promptly placed in a chair,
where for a few minutes longer she remained unconscious. Then, on coming
to her senses, she remained for a moment silent, oppressed as by a
feeling of pain, and apparently failing to understand what had taken
place. Mathieu and Marianne, terribly upset, pressed her with questions,
anxious as they were to know if she felt better. She had evidently
caught cold, and this was the fine result of her foolish ride.

By degrees the girl recovered her composure, and again smiled. She then
explained that she now felt no pain, but that it had suddenly seemed to
her as if a heavy paving-stone were lying on her chest; then this weight
had melted away, leaving her better able to breathe. And, indeed, she
was soon on her feet once more, and finished giving her views respecting
the decoration of the gallery, in such wise that the others ended by
feeling reassured, and the afternoon passed away joyously in the making
of all sorts of splendid plans. Little was eaten at dinner, for they
had done too much honor to the crawfish at noon. And at nine o'clock, as
soon as Celeste arrived for Andree, the gathering broke up. Ambroise was
returning to Paris that same evening. Blaise and Denis were to take the
seven o'clock train the following morning. And Rose, after accompan