the green branch above her, driving away the flies from her sleeping
companion, and gently fanning her.

She stared at M. Fanjat and the colonel as they came up; then, like a
dumb animal that recognizes its master, she slowly turned her face
towards the countess, and watched over her as before, showing not the
slightest sign of intelligence or of astonishment. The air was
scorching. The glittering particles of the stone bench shone like
sparks of fire; the meadow sent up the quivering vapors that hover
above the grass and gleam like golden dust when they catch the light,
but Genevieve did not seem to feel the raging heat.

The colonel wrung M. Fanjat's hands; the tears that gathered in the
soldier's eyes stole down his cheeks, and fell on the grass at
Stephanie's feet.

"Sir," said her uncle, "for these two years my heart has been broken
daily. Before very long you will be as I am; if you do not weep, you
will not feel your anguish the less."

"You have taken care of her!" said the colonel, and jealousy no less
than gratitude could be read in his eyes.

The two men understood one another. They grasped each other by the
hand again, and stood motionless, gazing in admiration at the serenity
that slumber had brought into the lovely face before them. Stephanie
heaved a sigh from time to time, and this sigh, that had all the
appearance of sensibility, made the unhappy colonel tremble with
gladness.