certain winged creatures fed in Strasbourg so perfectly represent
when, with their heads sunk behind their protruding gizzards, they
neither see nor wish to see the most appetizing food. So, when the
formidable letter was finished, the writer felt the need of getting
away from the gardens of Armida and doing something to enliven the
deadly void of the morning hours; for the hours between breakfast and
dinner belonged to the mistress of the house, who knew very well how
to make them pass quickly. To keep, as Madame de Montcornet did, a man
of talent in the country without ever seeing on his face the false
smile of satiety, or detecting the yawn of a weariness that cannot be
concealed, is a great triumph for a woman. The affection which is
equal to such a test certainly ought to be eternal. It is to be
wondered at that women do not oftener employ it to judge of their
lovers; a fool, an egoist, or a petty nature could never stand it.
Philip the Second himself, the Alexander of dissimulation, would have
told his secrets if condemned to a month's tete-a-tete in the country.
Perhaps this is why kings seek to live in perpetual motion, and allow
no one to see them more than fifteen minutes at a time.

Notwithstanding that he had received the delicate attentions of one of
the most charming women in Paris, Emile Blondet was able to feel once
more the long forgotten delights of a truant schoolboy; and on the
morning of the day after his letter was written he had himself called
by Francois, the head valet, who was specially appointed to wait on
him, for the purpose of exploring the valley of the Avonne.

The Avonne is a little river which, being swollen above Conches by
numerous rivulets, some of which rise in Les Aigues, falls at
Ville-aux-Fayes into one of the large affluents of the Seine. The
geographical position of the Avonne, navigable for over twelve miles,