was continually surprised at this great change in herself, as if the
knowledge of joys and griefs hitherto unknown had been revealed to
her in the enchantment of dreams, and that her eyes had been opened to
natural beauties which surrounded her.

What--was it really true that the unseen lilacs and laburnums of the
Bishop's garden had so sweet an odour that she could no longer breathe
it without a flush of colour mounting to her cheeks? Never before had
she perceived this warmth of perfume which now touched her as if with a
living breath.

And again, why had she never remarked in preceding years a great
Japanese Paulownia in blossom, which looked like an immense violet
bouquet as it appeared between two elm-trees in the garden of the
Voincourts? This year, as soon as she looked at it, her eyes grew
moist, so much was she affected by the delicate tints of the pale purple
flowers. She also fancied that the Chevrotte had never chattered
so gaily over the pebbles among the willows on its banks. The river
certainly talked; she listened to its vague words, constantly repeated,
which filled her heart with trouble. Was it, then, no longer the field
of other days, that everything in it so astonished her and affected her
senses in so unusual a way? Or, rather, was not she herself so changed
that, for the first time, she appreciated the beauty of the coming into
life of trees and plants?

But the Cathedral at her right, the enormous mass which obstructed the
sky, surprised her yet more. Each morning she seemed to see it for the
first time; she made constant discoveries in it, and was delighted to
think that these old stones lived and had lived like herself. She did
not reason at all on the subject, she had very little knowledge, but