st
him, but she moved from him with an abrupt movement, and, getting
suddenly angry, exclaimed: "Oh! Monsieur Francois, after what you swore
to me!" And they went back to Maisons-Laffitte.

They had lunch at the Petit-Havre, a low house, buried under four
enormous poplar trees, by the side of the river. The air, the heat, the
weak white wine and the sensation of being so close together made them
silent; their faces were flushed and they had a feeling of oppression;
but, after the coffee, they regained their high spirits, and, having
crossed the Seine, started off along the bank, toward the village of La
Frette. Suddenly he asked: "What-is your name?"

"Louise."

"Louise," he repeated and said nothing more.

The girl picked daisies and made them into a great bunch, while he
sang vigorously, as unrestrained as a colt that has been turned into a
meadow. On their left a vine-covered slope followed the river. Francois
stopped motionless with astonishment: "Oh, look there!" he said.

The vines had come to an end, and the whole slope was covered with
lilac bushes in flower. It was a purple wood! A kind of great carpet of
flowers stretched over the earth, reaching as far as the village,
more than two miles off. She also stood, surprised and delighted, and
murmured: "Oh! how pretty!" And, crossing a meadow, they ran toward that
curious low hill, which, every year, furnishes all the lilac that is
drawn through Paris on the carts of the flower venders.

There was a narrow path beneath the trees, so they took it, and when
they came to a small clearing, sat down.

Swarms of flies were buzzing around them and making a continuous, gentle
sound, and the sun, the bright sun of a perfectly still day, shone over
the bright slopes and from that forest of blossoms a powerful fragrance
was borne toward them, a breath of perfume, the breath of the flowers.

A church clock struck in the distance, and they embraced gently, then,
without the knowledge of anything but that kiss, lay down on the grass.
But she soon came to herself with the feeling of a great misfortune, and
began to cry and sob with grief, with her face buried in her hands.

He tried to console her, but she wanted to start to return and to go
home immediately; and she kept saying, as she walked along quickly:
"Good heavens! good heavens!"

He said to her: "Louise! Louise! Please let us stop here." But now her
cheeks were red and her eyes hollow, and, as soon as they got