At a glance I saw that she had been the presiding genius in the arrangement of the two rooms. Everything was of excessive but elegant simplicity. I found flowers on every side; also a piano, a painter's easel, and some books which she had heard me mention as my favourites. Pointing out to me an ebony cabinet frame with doors richly inlaid with mother-of-pearl, Madame de Fersen asked me to open it. On one side I found the exquisite sketch which Frank had made of the dying Irene, and on the other side a recent portrait of Irene also painted by Frank. I took Catherine's hand and carried it to my lips, with a feeling of inexpressible gratitude. She herself pressed her hand to my lip with an impulse full of tenderness. She then turned and passionately embraced her child. I closed the panel, still more touched by this mark of Catherine's remembrance, for I had expressed to her my views regarding portraits exposed to the gaze of all. When we left the cottage, the purple and gold of the dying sun was mirrored in the bosom of the lake. The acacias were dropping their roseate and fragrant petals. No sound was heard; on all sides the horizon was bounded by dark masses of verdure; we found ourselves in the midst of the most profound solitude, the most peaceful, the most mysterious. Impressed by the sight of this sad and touching picture, Catherine leaned on the balcony of the chalet, and remained a few minutes plunged in reverie. Irene sat at her feet, and began to gather roses and honeysuckle to make a bouquet. I leaned against the door, and could not help feeling a pang of anguish as I looked upon Madame de Fersen. I was going to pass long days near this woman, so passionately loved, and delicacy forbade my speaking one word of this deep and ardent love, which circumstances recently had combined to increase. I knew not if I was beloved, or, rather, I despaired of being loved; it seemed to me that fate, which had brought Madame de Fersen and me together, by the death-bed of her child, during a month of terrible anguish, had been too tragic to end in so tender a sentiment. I was absorbed in these sad thoughts, when Madame de Fersen made a quick movement, as if she were aroused from a dream, and said to me, "Pardon me, but it is so long since I breathed air so fragrant and invigorating that I selfishly enjoy this lovely nature." Irene divided her bouquet in two, gave one half to her mother, the other to me, and we then started towards the house. We reached it after a long walk, for the park was very extensive. CHAPTER XXIV DAYS OF SUNSHINE THE GROVE, 10th May, 18--.[6] It is eleven o'clock; I have just left Madame de Fersen. Here am I in the chalet, which, henceforward, I am to occupy near her! I experience a strange emotion. Events have succeeded each other with such rapidity, my heart has been torn by such conflicting passions, that I feel the necessity of reviewing my memories, my desires, and my hopes.