ity.

She accepted,--of course she did,--and the matter was finally arranged
one Saturday evening for the next day. I was to find her at the house of
her aunt, who lived in my neighborhood, and who, to my surprise, turned
out to be the proprietress of the Laiterie I frequented. Here we were to
breakfast, and afterwards take the proper conveyance to our destination,
which I think was Belleville.

Sunday came, and with it came such weather as the gods seldom vouchsafe
to mortals who contemplate visiting the country. It was one of those
cloudless days in early June when all Nature, and yourself more
than anything else in Nature, seems as though it had been taking
Champagne,--not too warm, but sufficiently so to make out-of-door life a
luxury, and an excursion like ours into the country almost a necessity.

Therese, like everything else in Nature on that summer's day, was more
gloriously beautiful, in my eyes, than ever before. Hermine's ideal
beauty, and with it her chance of success, faded out from my memory like
an unfixed photograph, before this charming reality, and Therese ruled
supreme. She had dressed herself with a taste which surprised even
me, who had so long regarded her as irreproachable, as she was
unapproachable, in that particular; and the joy she felt at the thought
of a whole day's ramble in the country showed itself in every feature
of her countenance, in every movement, and in every tone of her voice.
There didn't live a prouder or a happier man than I was, as we made our
way arm in arm towards the Place Dauphine, where we were to take the
omnibus for Belleville.

We ran wild in the woods and fields all that day, we fed the fishes in
the ponds, we made ourselves dizzy on the seesaws and merry-go-rounds,
and at last, fairly tired out, and feeling desperately and most
unromantically hungry, turned into the neatest and least frequented
restaurant we could find and ordered our dinner.

Therese was no _gourmande_, luckily. Her tastes were simple and
harmonized admirably with my slender means. We dined, however, like
princes, and drank a bottle of _Chateau Margeaux_, instead of the _vin
ordinaire_, which was my ordinary wine. Therese's gayety had fairly
inoculated me, and, forgetting my usual reserve, we laughed and chatted
as noisily as a couple of children.

"Upon my word," cried I, as I caught sight of a bouquet of flowers in
the room we occupied, "what a couple of ninnies we have been! We have
forgo