Auguste stood near the swing and pushed gently, while Madame Destival seated herself at a little distance, with her handkerchief at her eyes. The young man was distraught; he looked at Athalie and Madame Destival in turn; the former's petulant ways attracted him, the other's grief seemed to cause him pain. "Oh! what fun! how lovely it is!" cried the petite-maîtresse. "Keep on, monsieur, harder! Look out, you are jerking me.--Ah! my dear, you can't imagine how I like this!" Madame de la Thomassinière gave no sign of being tired of swinging; but Madame Destival, who was not at all amused, resorted to the device of fainting, and fell back in her chair with a hollow groan. Thereupon Auguste left the swing and ran to Emilie, exclaiming: "What is the matter, madame?" "Leave me; you are a monster!" replied Madame Destival, her eyes still closed. "What have I done, pray?" "Do you think that I have not noticed your conduct?" "My conduct has been perfectly natural, I should say----" "Not content with coming here from--from I don't know where, monsieur presumes, in my presence, to make love to that flirt, who behaves in the most indecent way! I should have hoped that you would at least respect my house, monsieur!" "Really, madame, I cannot in the least understand your anger. I am courteous, polite--nothing more." "Do you think that I have no eyes? It is far too evident. The least that you can do is to show some little self-restraint!" "But----" "Hush!" "Well!" said Athalie, noticing that the swing moved more slowly, "what are you doing, monsieur? You are not pushing, you are letting me stop; and I don't want that. Are you tired already? Fie! a young man too!" At that moment appeared Monsieur Monin, who, seeing that his host was determined to practise the manual until dinner, and feeling that he had not the strength to continue, had dropped his spade and bent his steps toward the garden, where, as he wiped his forehead, he sought to freshen up his ideas by resorting to his snuff-box. "You have come in the nick of time, Monsieur Monin," said Madame Destival; "madame is sorely in need of somebody to swing her. Do her that service, she will be overjoyed." As she said this, Emilie rose, took Auguste's arm and led him to another part of the garden, leaving Monin agape with amazement at the task assigned him, and Athalie still in the swing. Having her back to the others, she had not noticed their departure and was still ignorant of the fact that she had changed swingers. "Well! push me, monsieur!" she said, wriggling about in the swing to make herself go. Monin fortified himself with a pinch of snuff and walked toward the swing; but, having miscalculated the space that it covered in swinging back, the seat came down upon him as he was turning up his sleeves in order to push harder, and the young woman's plump figure struck him in the face.