weather, of their master, who was a good fellow, then of their neighbors,
of all the people in the country round, of themselves, of their village,
of their youthful days, of their recollections, of their relations, who
had left them for a long time, and it might be forever. She grew sad as
she thought of it, while he, with one fixed idea in his head, drew closer
to her.

"I have not seen my mother for a long time," she said. "It is very hard
to be separated like that," and she directed her looks into the distance,
toward the village in the north which she had left.

Suddenly, however, he seized her by the neck and kissed her again, but
she struck him so violently in the face with her clenched fist that his
nose began to bleed, and he got up and laid his head against the stem of
a tree. When she saw that, she was sorry, and going up to him, she said:
"Have I hurt you?" He, however, only laughed. "No, it was a mere nothing;
only she had hit him right on the middle of the nose. What a devil!" he
said, and he looked at her with admiration, for she had inspired him with
a feeling of respect and of a very different kind of admiration which was
the beginning of a real love for that tall, strong wench. When the
bleeding had stopped, he proposed a walk, as he was afraid of his
neighbor's heavy hand, if they remained side by side like that much
longer; but she took his arm of her own accord, in the avenue, as if they
had been out for an evening's walk, and said: "It is not nice of you to
despise me like that, Jacques." He protested, however. No, he did not
despise her. He was in love with her, that was all.

"So you really want to marry me?" she asked.

He hesitated and then looked at her sideways, while she looked straight