October, before it was over, gave to autumn that beauty which, in its dazzling monotony, summer never knows. The riot of color, the clearness of the air and that charm of all earthly things then constitute a sublime manifestation of the beauty of Nature. "Papa, you promised to take me to the Chartreuse de Prémol," said Marie Louise. "Did I? Very well, then we will all go there." The Chartreuse de Prémol is an old ruin hidden among the fir trees, two or three hours from Saint Martin d'Uriage. At first one follows the open plains of Chamrousse, then enters the forest. Albert arranged the little party for the following day. They would spend the entire day there--the weather was so mild--and would hire the donkey at the farm to carry Philippe astride, and a basket of provisions as well. A little village shepherd, rather simple, but very dependable, who was derisively called "Brains," would lead the animal by the bridle. In the morning they left without haste. The children began to dispute as to who should ride, and soon both preferred to walk. They felt as though they were marching with the step of a conqueror to the end of the world. Albert hoped that the pleasure of the walk, the healthful fatigue enjoyed together, the natural blending of the light with the woods, would touch Elizabeth's heart and give him back her confidence. To shield her from the heat of the sun, she had put on that big hood, which gave her the appearance of a very young girl. Her white neck was outlined by the low collar of her black dress. She was carrying a stick, which, no doubt, she would need on the excursion, but did not know how to use. He stopped an instant to look at her and admired that suppleness which she had acquired. It was one of those incomparable days, of which one would like to take hold and press out the beauty, so fearful is one that they will never come again. The road climbs across the meadows and orchards before reaching the woods. "A golden tree," said Marie Louise, who was going on ahead as a guide. Before them, outlined against the clear blue sky, was a pear tree, whose leaves were of a shade of yellow that was almost rose-colored, and so delicate that one might have thought they were flowers. Even in springtime, with the delicate whiteness on the branches, it could not look more beautiful.