They strolled on the south terrace with their arms round each other's waists, talking about Edouard, and wondering whether they should really see him before night.
Rose owned she had missed him, and confessed for the first time she was a proud and happy girl.
"May I tell him so ?" asked Josephine.
"Not for all the world.

Would you dare ?" Further discussion of that nice point was stopped by the baroness coming out, leaning on Dr.Aubertin.
Then--how we young people of an unceremonious age should have stared--the demoiselles de Beaurepaire, inasmuch as this was their mother's first appearance, lowered their fair heads at the same time like young poplars bowing to the wind, and so waited reverently till she had slightly lifted her hands, and said, "God bless you, my children!" It was done in a moment on both sides, but full of grace and piety, and the charm of ancient manners.
"How did our dear mother sleep ?" inquired Josephine.

Aubertin interposed with a theory that she slept very well indeed if she took what he gave her.
"Ay, IF," suggested Rose, saucily.
"I slept," said the baroness, "and I wish I had not for I dreamed an ugly dream." They all gathered round her, and she told her dream.
"I thought I was with you all in this garden.

I was admiring the flowers and the trees, and the birds were singing with all their might.

Suddenly a dark cloud came; it cleared almost directly; but flowers, trees, sky, and birds were gone now, and I could see the chateau itself no more.