"Poor woman!" said her husband, taking her hand in his and giving her
a tearful look, "I knew nothing of it."

"Why should you be troubled when there is no occasion?" she replied.
"Now go and attend to the rye. You know if you are not there the men
will let the gleaners of the other villages get into the field before
the sheaves are carried away."

"I am going to take a first lesson in agriculture, madame," I said to
her.

"You have a very good master," she replied, motioning towards the
count, whose mouth screwed itself into that smile of satisfaction
which is vulgarly termed a "bouche en coeur."

Two months later I learned she had passed that night in great anxiety,
fearing that her son had the croup; while I was in the boat, rocked by
thoughts of love, imagined that she might see me from her window
adoring the gleam of the candle which was then lighting a forehead
furrowed by fears! The croup prevailed at Tours, and was often fatal.
When we were outside the gate, the count said in a voice of emotion,
"Madame de Mortsauf is an angel!" The words staggered me. As yet I
knew but little of the family, and the natural conscience of a young
soul made me exclaim inwardly: "What right have I to trouble this
perfect peace?"

Glad to find a listener in a young man over whom he could lord it so
easily, the count talked to me of the future which the return of the
Bourbons would secure to France. We had a desultory conversation, in
which I listened to much childish nonsense which positively amazed me.