d
and her legs stretched out.

Gradually her eyes closed, and she was falling into a state of
delightful languor. She was, in fact, almost asleep when she felt two
hands on her bosom, and she sprang up at a bound. It was Jacques, one of
the farm laborers, a tall fellow from Picardy, who had been making love
to her for a long time. He had been herding the sheep, and, seeing her
lying down in the shade, had come up stealthily and holding his breath,
with glistening eyes and bits of straw in his hair.

He tried to kiss her, but she gave him a smack in the face, for she was
as strong as he, and he was shrewd enough to beg her pardon; so they sat
down side by side and talked amicably. They spoke about the favorable
weather, of their master, who was a good fellow, then of their
neighbors, of all the people in the country round, of themselves, of
their village, of their youthful days, of their recollections, of their
relations, who had left them for a long time, and it might be forever.
She grew sad as she thought of it, while he, with one fixed idea in his
head, drew closer to her.

"I have not seen my mother for a long time," she said. "It is very
hard to be separated like that," and she directed her looks into the
distance, toward the village in the north which she had left.

Suddenly, however, he seized her by the neck and kissed her again, but
she struck him so violently in the face with her clenched fist that his
nose began to bleed, and he got up and laid his head against the stem of
a tree. When she saw that, she was sorry, and going up to him, she
said: "Have I hurt you?" He, however, only laughed. "No, it was a mere
nothing; only she had hit him right on the middle of the nose. What
a devil!" he said, and he looked at her with admiration, for she had
inspired him with a feeling of respect and of a very different kind of
admiration which was the beginning of a real love for that tall, strong
wench. When the bleeding had stopped, he proposed a walk, as he was
afraid of his neighbor's heavy hand, if they remained side by side like
that much longer; but she took his arm of her own accord, in the avenue,
as if they had been out for an evening's walk, and said: "It is not nice
of you to despise me like that, Jacques." He protested, however. No, he
did not despise her. He was in love with her, that was all.

"So you really want to marry me?" she asked.

He hesitated and then looked at her sideways, while she looked st