know nothing of farming, nor of the various methods of cultivating the
soil."

"Well, come and learn," he cried gaily, returning upon his steps.
"Come in by the little gate above."

The count walked back along the hedge, he being within it and I
without.

"You will learn nothing from Monsieur de Chessel," he remarked; "he is
altogether too fine a gentleman to do more than receive the reports of
his bailiff."

The count then showed me his yards and the farm buildings, the
pleasure-grounds, orchards, vineyards, and kitchen garden, until we
finally came to the long alley of acacias and ailanthus beside the
river, at the end of which I saw Madame de Mortsauf sitting on a
bench, with her children. A woman is very lovely under the light and
quivering shade of such foliage. Surprised, perhaps, at my prompt
visit, she did not move, knowing very well that we should go to her.
The count made me admire the view of the valley, which at this point
is totally different from that seen from the heights above. Here I
might have thought myself in a corner of Switzerland. The meadows,
furrowed with little brooks which flow into the Indre, can be seen to
their full extent till lost in the misty distance. Towards Montbazon
the eye ranges over a vast green plain; in all other directions it is
stopped by hills, by masses of trees, and rocks. We quickened our
steps as we approached Madame de Mortsauf, who suddenly dropped the
book in which Madeleine was reading to her and took Jacques upon her
knees, in the paroxysms of a violent cough.