And Jacques walked on always alone, his heart bleeding within him from the thorns of a remembrance which the orchestra rendered keener by playing a lively quadrille which sounded to his ears as mournful as a _De Profundis_. It was in the midst of this reverie that he noticed Marie, who was watching him from a corner, and laughing like a wild thing at his gloomy bearing. Jacques raised his eyes and saw this burst of laughter in a pink bonnet within three paces of him. He went up to her and made a few remarks, to which she replied. He offered her his arm for a stroll around the garden which she accepted. He told her that he thought her as beautiful as an angel, and she made him repeat it twice over. He stole some green apples hanging from the trees of the garden for her, and she devoured them eagerly to the accompaniment of that ringing laugh which seemed the burden of her constant mirth. Jacques thought of the Bible, and thought that we should never despair as regards any woman, and still less as regards those who love apples. He took another turn round the garden with the pink bonnet, and it is thus that arriving at the ball alone he did not return from it so. However, Jacques had not forgotten Francine; bearing in mind Rodolphe's words he kissed her daily on Marie's lips, and wrought in secret at the figure he wished to place on the dead girl's grave. One day when he received some money Jacques bought a dress for Marie--a black dress. The girl was pleased, only she thought that black was not very lively for summer wear. But Jacques told her that he was very fond of black, and that she would please him by wearing this dress every day. Marie obeyed. One Saturday Jacques said to her: "Come early tomorrow, we will go into the country." "How nice!" said Marie. "I am preparing a surprise for you. You shall see. It will be sunshiny tomorrow." Marie spent the night at home finishing a new dress that she had bought out of her savings--a pretty pink dress. And on Sunday she arrived clad in her smart purchase at Jacques' studio. The artist received her coldly, almost brutally. "I thought I should please you by making this bright toilette," said Marie, who could not understand his coolness. "We cannot go into the country today," replied he. "You had better be off. I have some work today." Marie went home with a full heart. On the way she met a young man who was acquainted with Jacques' story, and who had also paid court to herself. "Ah! Mademoiselle Marie, so you are no longer in mourning?" said he. "Mourning?" asked Marie. "For whom?" "What, did you not know? It is pretty generally known, though, the black dress that Jacques gave you--." "Well, what of it?" asked Marie. "It was mourning. Jacques made you wear mourning for Francine." From that day Jacques saw no more of Marie.