"No," said she, "I like new countries like Corsica, or very old
countries full of souvenirs, like Greece. It must be delightful to
find the traces of those peoples whose history we have known since
childhood, to see places where great deeds were accomplished."

The vicomte, less enthusiastic, exclaimed: "As for me, England
attracts me very much; there is so much to be learned there."

Then they talked about the world in general, discussing the
attractions of each country from the poles to the equator, enthusing
over imaginary scenes and the peculiar manners of certain peoples like
the Chinese and the Lapps; but they arrived at the conclusion that the
most beautiful country in the world was France, with its temperate
climate, cool in summer, mild in winter, its rich soil, its green
forests, its worship of the fine arts which existed nowhere else since
the glorious centuries of Athens. Then they were silent. The setting
sun left a wide dazzling train of light which extended from the
horizon to the edge of their boat. The wind subsided, the ripples
disappeared, and the motionless sail was red in the light of the dying
day. A limitless calm seemed to settle down on space and make a
silence amid this conjunction of elements; and by degrees the sun
slowly sank into the ocean.

Then a fresh breeze seemed to arise, a little shiver went over the
surface of the water, as if the engulfed orb cast a sigh of
satisfaction across the world. The twilight was short, night fell with
its myriad stars. Pere Lastique took the oars, and they saw that the
sea was phosphorescent. Jeanne and the vicomte, side by side, watched
the fitful gleams in the wake of the boat. They were hardly thinking,