She was standing upon the gray and black mosaic of the peristyle, dressed in the most charming morning toilette.

Her golden hair was gathered up under a large hat of flowers, over which was a white veil; her hand toyed with the silver handle of a white parasol, and in the reflection of that whiteness, with her clear, fair complexion, with her lovely blue eyes in which sparkled passion and intelligence, with her faultless teeth which gleamed when she smiled, with her form still slender notwithstanding the fulness of her bust, she seemed to be a creature so youthful, so vigorous, so little touched by age that a stranger would never have taken her to be the mother of the tall young girl who was already beside her and who said to her-- "What imprudence! Ill as you were this morning, to go out in this sun.
Why did you do so ?" "To fetch you and to take you home!" replied the Countess gayly.

"I was ashamed of having indulged myself! I rose, and here I am.

Good-day, Dorsenne.

I hope you kept your eyes open up there.