overed with
islets green and picturesque. These variations in the landscape made
up a thousand pictures which gave to the spot, naturally charming, a
thousand novel features. We walked along the most extensive of these
terraces, which was covered with a thick umbrage of trees. She had
recovered from the effects of her husband's persiflage, and as we walked
along she gave me her confidence. Confidence begets confidence, and as
I told her mine, all she said to me became more intimate and more
interesting. Madame de T----- at first gave me her arm; but soon this
arm became interlaced in mine, I know not how, but in some way almost
lifted her up and prevented her from touching the ground. The position
was agreeable, but became at last fatiguing. We had been walking for
a long time and we still had much to say to each other. A bank of turf
appeared and she sat down without withdrawing her arm. And in this
position we began to sound the praises of mutual confidence, its charms
and its delights.

"Ah!" she said to me, "who can enjoy it more than we and with less cause
of fear? I know well the tie that binds you to another, and therefore
have nothing to fear."

Perhaps she wished to be contradicted. But I answered not a word. We
were then mutually persuaded that it was possible for us to be friends
without fear of going further.

"But I was afraid, however," I said, "that that sudden jolt in the
carriage and the surprising consequences may have frightened you."

"Oh, I am not so easily alarmed!"

"I fear it has left a little cloud on your mind?"

"What must I do to reassure you?"

"Give me the kiss here which chance--"

"I will gladly do so; for if I do not, your vanity will lead you to
think that I fear you."

I took the kiss.

It is with kisses as with confidences, the first leads to another. They
are multiplied, they interrupt conversation, they take its place; they
scarce leave time for a sigh to escape. Silence followed. We could hear
it, for silence may be heard. We rose without a word and began to walk
again.

"We must go in," said she, "for the air of the river is icy, and it is
not worth while--"

"I think to go in would be more dangerous," I answered.

"Perhaps so! Never mind, we will go in."

"Why, is this out of consideration for me? You wish doubtless to save me
from the impressions which I may receive from such a walk as this--the
consequences which may result. Is it for me--for me only--?"

"