e over all that
we say, over all that we do; and, while Rose anxiously tries to fill the
silence, I lie in wait, ready for a word, a sigh, a look that will
enable me to go straight to the heart of that soul, which I am eager to
grasp even as we take in our hand a mysterious object of which we are
trying to discover the secret.

Alas, the darkness between us is too dense and there is only the light
of her beautiful eyes, those sad, submissive eyes, to guide my pity! Our
conversation is somewhat laboured; the girl evades any direct question;
and any opinion which I venture to form can be only of the vaguest.

She seems to me to be lacking in spirit, of a nervous and despondent
temperament, but not unintelligent. I know nothing of her mental powers.
We sometimes see an active intelligence directing very inferior
abilities, just as our good friend the dog is an excellent shepherd to
his silly, docile flock. In her, the most ordinary ideas are so
logically dovetailed that one is tempted to accept them even when one
hesitates to approve them. Her mind must be free from baseness, for
throughout our conversation she made no effort to please me. Would it
not have needed a very quick discernment, a very uncommon shrewdness to
know so soon that she would please me better like that?

That was what I said to myself by way of encouragement, so great was my
haste to pour into her ears those instinctive words of hope and
independence which it was natural to utter. And, let them be premature
or tardy, barren or fruitful, I could not refrain from speaking them....

But suddenly she released herself: it was already past the time for
milking the cows; they must be waiting for her. Nevertheless, she gave a
shrug of the shoulders which implied that she cared little whether she
was late or not; and, with a "Good-bye till to-morrow!" she went off
heavily, making the ground ring with the steady tramp of her wooden
shoes.

For an instant I stood motionless in the orchard. Her shrill voice still
sounded in my ears; and the constraint of her attitude oppressed me. The
road by which she had just gone was now hardly visible. A fog rose from
the sea and gradually blotted out everything. The plains, the hills, the
cottages vanished one by one; and already, around me, veils of mist
clung to the branches of the apple-trees. At regular intervals, the boom
of the fog-horn startled the silence.

2

Those who pass through our life and who will sim