ing with the
kitchen. A plum-tree, loaded with its violet fruit, spread its light
shadow over the young girl's head, as she sat shelling fresh-gathered
peas and piling the faint green heaps of color around her. The sound of
approaching steps on the grassy soil caused her to raise her head, but
she did not stir. In his intense emotion, Julien thought the alley never
would come to an end. He would fain have cleared it with a single bound,
so as to be at once in the presence of Mademoiselle Vincart, whose
immovable attitude rendered his approach still more difficult.
Nevertheless, he had to get over the ground somehow at a reasonable
pace, under penalty of making himself ridiculous, and he therefore
found plenty of time to examine Reine, who continued her work with
imperturbable gravity, throwing the peas as she shelled them into an
ash-wood pail at her feet.

She was bareheaded, and wore a striped skirt and a white jacket fitted
to her waist. The checkered shadows cast by the tree made spots of light
and darkness over her face and her uncovered neck, the top button of her
camisole being unfastened on account of the heat. De Buxieres had been
perfectly well recognized by her, but an emotion, at least equal to
that experienced by the young man, had transfixed her to the spot, and
a subtle feminine instinct had urged her to continue her employment,
in order to hide the sudden trembling of her fingers. During the last
month, ever since the adventure in the hut, she had thought often of
Julien; and the remembrance of the audacious kiss which the young de
Buxieres had so impetuously stolen from her neck, invariably brought the
flush of shame to her brow. But, although she was very indignant at
the fiery nature of his caress, as implying a want of respect little in
harmony with Julien's habitual reserve, she was astonished at herself
for not being still more angry. At first, the affront put upon her had
roused a feeling of indignation, but now, when she thought of it, she
felt only a gentle embarrassment, and a soft beating of the heart.
She began to reflect that to have thus broken loose from all restraint
before her, this timid youth must have been carried away by an
irresistible burst of passion, and any woman, however high-minded she
may be, will forgive such violent homage rendered to the sovereign power
of her beauty. Besides his feeding of her vanity, another independent
and more powerful motive predisposed her to indulge