In the clear waters of the little stream that flowed through the little lawn stood a big basket filled with watermelons, purple figs, and early grapes cooling in the icy flood, in which two carafes, one filled with lemonade of a pale amber hue, the other with ruby-tinted pomegranate juice, were also submerged. Upon the soft grass, near the edge of the stream, and in the shade, were two big armchairs, several straw mats, a number of cushions, and sundry other aids to comfort and _dolce far niente_; and lastly, within easy reach of the armchairs, stood a table upon which a number of books and papers, a Turkish pipe, a number of glasses, and a plate of the small wheaten cakes peculiar to that province were heaped in picturesque confusion. To complete the picture, one could discern through two vistas in the quincunx, on one side, the still, blue waters of the Mediterranean; on the other, the summits of the distant mountains, whose majestic outlines stood out in bold relief against the azure sky. Valentine, charmed by the scene before her, stood as if spellbound. A moment more, and Florence's little hand opened slowly. The fan dropped, and, in escaping from the fingers of the sleeper, woke her. CHAPTER XVII. IN CHANGE, UNCHANGED. On seeing Madame d'Infreville, Florence uttered a cry of joy, and, springing from the hammock, threw her arms around her friend's neck. "Ah," she exclaimed, kissing Valentine tenderly, her eyes filling with tears, "I was sure that you would come. I have been expecting you for two days, and you know the proverb, 'Happiness comes while one sleeps,'" she added, smiling and casting a glance at the hammock which she had just quitted, "the proverb of the slothful, but a true one, nevertheless, as you see. But let me take a good look at you," she continued, still holding her friend's hands, but drawing back a step or two. "As beautiful, yes, even more beautiful than ever, I see! Kiss me again, my dear Valentine. Think of it, four years have passed since we last saw each other, and what a terrible day that was! But each thing in its own proper time! And first," added Florence, taking her friend by the hand and leading her to the brookside, "as the heat is so overpowering, here are some of the fruits of my garden which I have been cooling for you." "Thanks, Florence, but I would rather not eat anything now. But now, let me, in my turn, take a good look at you, and tell you--I am no flatterer, though, as you know--how much prettier you have grown. What a colour you have! and how young and, above all, how happy you look!" "Do you really think so? So much the better, for I should be ungrateful, indeed, if I did not look happy. But I understand your impatience. You want to talk, and so do I--in fact, I am just dying to! So let us talk, but first sit down--here, in this armchair. Now put this ottoman under your feet, and take this cushion to lean against. One can not make oneself too comfortable, you know."