At this moment Cécile came in and was received by Charlotte with the most flattering exclamations and much warmth of manner. She talked of D’Argenton and of their friend at Tours, which annoyed Jack intensely, for he would have wished neither person to have been mentioned in Cécile’s pure presence, and over and over again he stopped the careless babble of his mother who had no such scruples. They urged Madame D’Argenton to remain to dinner, but she had already lingered too long, and was uneasily occupied in inventing a series of excuses for her delay, which should be in readiness when she encountered her poet’s frowning face. “Above all, Jack, if you write to me, be sure that you put on your letter ‘_to be called for_,’ for M. D’Argenton is much vexed with you just now. So do not be astonished if I scold you a little in my next letter, for he is always there when I write. He even dictates my sentences sometimes; but don’t mind, dear, you will understand.” She acknowledged her slavery with naïveté, and Jack was consoled for the tyranny by which she was oppressed by seeing her go away in excellent spirits, and with her shawl wrapped so gracefully around her, and her travelling-bag carried as lightly as she carried all the burdens of life. Have you ever seen those water-lilies, whose long stems arise from the depths of the river, finding their way through all obstacles until they expand on the surface, opening their magnificent white cups, and filling the air with their delicate perfume? Thus grew and flowered the love of these two young hearts. With Cécile, the divine flower had grown in a limpid soul, where the most careless eyes could have discerned it. With Jack, its roots had been tangled and deformed, but when the stems reached the regions of air and light, they straightened themselves, and needed but little more to burst into flower. “If you wish,” said M. Rivals, one evening, “we will go to-morrow to the vintage at Coudray; the farmer will send his wagon; you two can go in that in the morning, and I will join you at dinner.” They accepted the proposition with delight. They started on a bright morning at the end of October. A soft haze hung over the landscape, retreating before them, as it seemed; upon the mown fields and on the bundles of golden grain, upon the slender plants, the last remains of the summer’s brightness, long silken threads floated like particles of gray fog. The river ran on one side of the highway, bordered by huge trees. The freshness of the air heightened the spirits of the two young travellers, who sat on the rough seat with their feet in the straw, and holding on with both hands to the side of the wagon. One of the farmer’s daughters drove a young ass, who, harassed by the wasps, which are very numerous at the time when the air is full of the aroma of ripening fruits, impatiently shook his long ears.