. See how many of them there are tonight. And how they
sparkle."

Her eyes also sparkled with extraordinary brilliancy.

"The storm makes them, I suppose," murmured Georges, still trembling.

The storm was indeed near. At brief intervals great clouds of leaves and
dust whirled from one end of the avenue to the other. They walked a few
steps farther, then all three returned to the house. The young women
took their work, Georges tried to read a newspaper, while Madame Fromont
polished her rings and M. Gardinois and his son-in-law played billiards
in the adjoining room.

How long that evening seemed to Sidonie! She had but one wish, to be
alone-alone with her thoughts.

But, in the silence of her little bedroom, when she had put out
her light, which interferes with dreams by casting too bright an
illumination upon reality, what schemes, what transports of delight!
Georges loved her, Georges Fromont, the heir of the factory! They would
marry; she would be rich. For in that mercenary little heart the first
kiss of love had awakened no ideas save those of ambition and a life of
luxury.

To assure herself that her lover was sincere, she tried to recall the
scene under the trees to its most trifling details, the expression of
his eyes, the warmth of his embrace, the vows uttered brokenly, lips
to lips, it that weird light shed by the glow-worms, which one solemn
moment had fixed forever in her heart.

Oh! the glow-worms of Savigny!

All night long they twinkled like stars before her closed eyes. The park
was full of them, to the farthest limits of its darkest paths. There
were clusters of them all along the lawns, on the trees, in the
shrubbery. The fine gravel of the avenues, the waves of the river,
seemed to emit green sparks, and all those microscopic flashes formed a
sort of holiday illumination in which Savigny seemed to be enveloped in
her honor, to celebrate the betrothal of Georges and Sidonie.

When she rose the next day, her plan was formed. Georges loved her; that
was certain. Did he contemplate marrying her? She had a suspicion that
he did not, the clever minx! But that did not frighten her. She felt
strong enough to triumph over that childish nature, at once weak and
passionate. She had only to resist him, and that is exactly what she
did.

For some days she was cold and indifferent, wilfully blind and devoid of
memory. He tried to speak to her, to renew the blissful moment, but she
avoided him, always