It took another thirty minutes to reach Trouville. The little
caravan dismounted in order to pass Les Écores, a cliff that
overhangs the bay, and a few minutes later, at the end of the
dock, they entered the yard of the Golden Lamb, an inn kept by
Mother David.

During the first few days, Virginia felt stronger, owing to the
change of air and the action of the sea-baths. She took them in
her little chemise, as she had no bathing suit, and afterwards her
nurse dressed her in the cabin of a customs officer, which was
used for that purpose by other bathers.

In the afternoon, they would take the donkey and go to the
Roches-Noires, near Hennequeville. The path led at first through
undulating grounds, and thence to a plateau, where pastures and
tilled fields alternated. At the edge of the road, mingling with
the brambles, grew holly bushes, and here and there stood large
dead trees whose branches traced zigzags upon the blue sky.

Ordinarily, they rested in a field facing the ocean, with
Deauville on their left, and Havre on their right. The sea
glittered brightly in the sun and was as smooth as a mirror, and
so calm that they could scarcely distinguish its murmur; sparrows
chirped joyfully and the immense canopy of heaven spread over it
all. Madame Aubain brought out her sewing, and Virginia amused
herself by braiding reeds; Félicité wove lavender blossoms, while
Paul was bored and wished to go home.

Sometimes they crossed the Toucques in a boat, and started to hunt