CHAPTER II.

Bougival and Love


They had set the table on the veranda which overlooked the river.
The Printemps villa, leased by the Marquise Obardi, was halfway up
this hill, just at the corner of the Seine, which turned before the
garden wall, flowing toward Marly.

Opposite the residence, the island of Croissy formed a horizon of
tall trees, a mass of verdure, and they could see a long stretch of
the big river as far as the floating cafe of La Grenouillere hidden
beneath the foliage.

The evening fell, one of those calm evenings at the waterside, full
of color yet soft, one of those peaceful evenings which produces a
sensation of pleasure. No breath of air stirred the branches, no
shiver of wind ruffled the smooth clear surface of the Seine. It was
not too warm, it was mild--good weather to live in. The grateful
coolness of the banks of the Seine rose toward a serene sky.

The sun disappeared behind the trees to shine on other lands, and
one seemed to absorb the serenity of the already sleeping earth, to
inhale, in the peace of space, the life of the infinite.

As they left the drawing-room to seat themselves at the table
everyone was joyous. A softened gaiety filled their hearts, they
felt that it would be so delightful to dine there in the country,