he surprised me at a bright fountain, where I was deliciously
dreaming, and put my fancies to flight, and now by his impertinent
babbling he has spoiled a fete in which I took interest and
pleasure. What is he holding in reserve for me? The most annoying
part of it is, that henceforth I shall be condemned to see him
daily. Even to-day, in a few hours, I shall meet him at his
father's table. Presentiments do not always deceive, and at first
sight I recognize in him a strong enemy to my repose and happiness;
but I shall manage to keep him at a distance. We won't distress
ourselves over a trifle. What does philosophy amount to, if the
happiness of a philosopher is to be at the mercy of a spoiled
child!"

Thus saying, he drew from his pocket a book which he often carried
in his walks: It was a volume of Goethe, containing the admirable
treatise on the "Metamorphosis of Plants." He began to read, often
raising his head from the page to gaze at a passing cloud, or a
bird fluttering from tree to tree. To this pleasant occupation he
abandoned himself for nearly an hour, when he heard the neighing of
a horse behind him, and turning, he saw Stephane advancing at full
speed on his superb chestnut and followed at a few paces by his
groom, mounted on a gray horse. Gilbert's first impulse was to
dart into a path which opened at his left, and thus gain the
shelter of the copse; but he did not wish to give Stephane the
pleasure of imagining that he was afraid of him, and so continued
on his way, his eyes riveted upon the book.

Stephane soon came up to him, and bringing his horse to a walk,
thus accosted him: