dying to say, "Yes!" Bending her head and blushing with confusion under
Maurice's ardent gaze, the pretty Maria ends by murmuring the fatal
"Yes." Then she sees Maurice turn pale with joy, and he says to her,
"I must talk to you alone; not before these bores." She replies: "But
how? It is impossible!" Then he asks whether she does not trust him,
whether she does not believe him to be an honest man, and the young
girl's looks say more than any protestation would.

"Well! to-morrow morning at ten o'clock--instead of coming to the
Louvre--will you? I will wait for you on the Quai d'Orsay, before the
Saint-Cloud pier."

She was there at the appointed hour, overwhelmed with emotion and ready
to faint. He took her by the arm and led her aboard the boat.

"Do you see, now we are almost alone. Give me the pleasure of wandering
through the fields with you. It is such beautiful weather. Be tranquil,
we shall return early."

Oh, the happy day! Maria sees pass before her, as she is seated beside
Maurice, who is whispering in her ear loving words and whose glances
cover her with caresses, as if in a dream, views of Paris that were not
familiar to her, high walls, arches of bridges, then the bare suburbs,
the smoking manufactories of Grenelle, the Bas Meudon, with its boats and
public-houses. At last, on the borders of the stream, the park with its
extensive verdure appeared.

They wandered there for a long time under the chestnut-trees, loaded with
their fruit in its green shells. The sun, filtering through the foliage,
dotted the walks with patches of light, and Maurice continued to repeat