iness. Miette was
exceptionally punctual. She fortunately slept over the kitchen, in a
room where the winter provisions had been kept before her arrival, and
which was reached by a little private staircase. She was thus able to go
out at all hours, without being seen by Rebufat or Justin. Moreover, if
the latter should ever see her returning she intended to tell him some
tale or other, staring at him the while with that stern look which
always reduced him to silence.

Ah! how happy those warm evenings were! The lovers had now reached the
first days of September, a month of bright sunshine in Provence. It was
hardly possible for them to join each other before nine o'clock. Miette
arrived from over the wall, in surmounting which she soon acquired such
dexterity that she was almost always on the old tombstone before Silvere
had time to stretch out his arms. She would laugh at her own strength
and agility as, for a moment, with her hair in disorder, she remained
almost breathless, tapping her skirt to make it fall. Her sweetheart
laughingly called her an impudent urchin. In reality he much admired
her pluck. He watched her jump over the wall with the complacency of an
older brother supervising the exercises of a younger one. Indeed,
there was yet much that was childlike in their growing love. On several
occasions they spoke of going on some bird's-nesting expedition on the
banks of the Viorne.

"You'll see how I can climb," said Miette proudly. "When I lived at
Chavanoz, I used to go right up to the top of old Andre's walnut-trees.
Have you ever taken a magpie's nest? It's very difficult!"

Then a discussion arose as to how one ought to climb a poplar. Miette
stated her opinions, with all a boy's confidence.

However, Silvere, clasping her round the knees, had by this time lifted
her to the ground, and then they would walk on, side by side, their arms
encircling each other's waist. Though they were but children, fond of
frolicsome play and chatter, and knew not even how to speak of love, yet
they already partook of love's delight. It sufficed them to press each
other's hands. Ignorant whither their feelings and their hearts were
drifting, they did not seek to hide the blissful thrills which the
slightest touch awoke. Smiling, often wondering at the delight they
experienced, they yielded unconsciously to the sweetness of new feelings
even while talking, like a couple of schoolboys, of the magpies' nests
which are so diff