Let us go back to the terrace." She stooped and picked up an orange that had fallen, throwing it subsequently along the smooth turf for her dog to chase.
"See," she said gaily, "Talleyrand will scarcely trouble to run now.
He is so stout and dignified.

He is afraid that the country dogs should see him.

It is Paris.

Paris spoils--so much." "You know my father's plans concerning us," said Alphonse, after a pause, which served to set aside Talleyrand and the orange.
"The Baron's plans are, I am told, wonderful, but"-- she paused and gave a little laugh--"I do not understand finance." They walked up the steps together, between the trim borders, where spring flowers were already breaking into bud.

On the terrace they found the Vicomtesse and the Baron Giraud.