ing with coral.

Here and there were some summer houses, still uninhabited, some deserted
gardens, invaded by the tall grass and the rose bushes.

Then, they made their horse walk; then, each one in his turn,
transferring the reins and standing in the wagon, amused himself by
eating these cherries from the trees while passing by them and without
stopping. Afterward, they placed bouquets of them in their buttonholes,
they culled branches of them to deck the horse's head, the harness and
the lantern. The equipage seemed ornamented for some festival of youth
and of joy--

"Now let us hurry," said Gracieuse. "If only it be light enough, at
least, when we reach Etchezar, for people to see us pass, ornamented as
we are!"

As for Ramuntcho, he thought of the meeting place in the evening, of the
kiss which he would dare to repeat, similar to that of yesterday, taking
Gracieuse's lip between his lips like a cherry--

CHAPTER XVIII.

May! The grass ascends, ascends from everywhere like a sumptuous carpet,
like silky velvet, emanating spontaneously from the earth.

In order to sprinkle this region of the Basques, which remains humid and
green all summer like a sort of warmer Brittany, the errant vapors
on the Bay of Biscay assemble all in this depth of gulf, stop at the
Pyrenean summits and melt into rain. Long showers fall, which are
somewhat deceptive, but after which the soil smells of new flowers and
hay.

In the fields, along the roads, the grasses quickly thicken; all the
ledges of the paths are as if padded by the magnificent thickness of
the bent grass; everywhere is a profusion of gigantic Easter daisies, of
buttercups with tall stems, and of very large, pink mallows like those
of Algeria.

And, in the long, tepid twilights, pale iris or blue ashes in color,
every night the bells of the month of Mary resound for a long time
in the air, under the mass of the clouds hooked to the flanks of the
mountains.

During the month of May, with the little group of black nuns, with
discreet babble, with puerile and lifeless laughter, Gracieuse, at all
hours, went to church. Hastening their steps under the frequent showers,
they went together through the graveyard, full of roses; together,
always together, the little clandestine betrothed, in light colored
gowns, and the nuns, with long, mourning veils; during the day they
brought bouquets of white flowers, daisies and sheafs of tall lilies;
at night they came to sing