1
Rose was to have a holiday the next day. We arranged that she should come with the trap from the farm, the first thing in the morning, to fetch me.
We start at six o'clock. The harness-bells tinkle gaily to the heavy trot of the big horse; and we laugh as we are jolted violently one against the other. We drive through the villages, those happy Normandy villages where everything seems eloquent of the richness of the soil. They are still asleep, the white curtains are drawn and the geraniums on the window-ledges alone are awake in all their glowing bloom. A faint haze veils the fields and imparts to things a soft warmth of tone that makes them more soothing to the eyes. The sun rises and we see the breath of earth shimmer in its first rays.
We have never yet been for a whole day's outing together; everything is new in my new pleasure. I look at Rose beside me. I had wanted her to put on her peasant clothes; and I find her beautiful in her scanty garb in the cool morning air.
We follow the long hog's-back that commands a view of the whole country round. Here and there, tiny villages float like islands of green amid the wide plains. A row of poplars lines the way on either side. Their yellow leaves quiver and rustle in the breeze. The rooks stand out harshly against the white road. And the mist, which is beginning to lift in places, reveals a deep-blue sky.
The keen air that enters my throat and makes my mouth cold as ice tells me of the smile that flickers over my face; and my pleasure is heightened by the sight of my happiness. A woman sees herself anew in everything that she beholds; life is her perpetual looking-glass. In our memory, the flowers in a hat often mingle with those along the road; and sometimes the muslin of a dress enfolds the recollection of our gravest emotions.
O femininity, sublime and ridiculous, wise and foolish! Never shall I weary of surprising its movements and variations deep down in my being! How it fascinates me in all its shades and forms! I let it play with my destiny as much from reason as from love, for we know that nothing can subdue it. I worship it in myself, I worship it in all of us! It may exhaust us in the performance of superhuman tasks, it may let us merely dally with the delight of being beautiful, it may chain us to our bodies or deliver us from their tyranny, it may adorn life or give it, enrich it or kill it: always and everywhere it arouses my eager interest. Ever unexpected and changeful, it floats in front of our woman's souls like a gracious veil that draws, unites and yet separates....
The even motion of the trap lulls my dreams and we drive on, in the midst of the plains, the fields and the woods. We pass through a dense flock of sheep. The warm round backs, the gentle, anxious faces push and hustle, while the thousand slender legs mingle and raise clouds of dust along the roadside. The timid voices bleat through space; and a pungent scent fills our nostrils. We are now going down into the valley. The village appears, among the trees: a cluster of red and grey roofs; little narrow gardens; white clothes hung out and fluttering in the sunlight. Beyond are broad meadows dotted with peaceful cows and streaked with running brooks. There, just in the middle, a factory displays its grimy buildings. It is an eye-sore, but it leaves the mind unscathed. Does it not represent definite and deliberate activity amid the unconsciousness of nature?...
At this moment, Rose turns towards me; and I seem to read a sadness in her eyes:
"What are you thinking of?" I ask.
"I am thinking that I should like to go away altogether and that we have to be back tonight."
I kissed her and laughed.
"My darling, you must live and be happy in the present: there is plenty of room there."
We arrived at the country-house to which I was taking her. Pretty women in delicate morning-wraps were eagerly awaiting us on the steps, while some of the men, attracted by the sound of our wheels, leant out from a window to see my pretty Rose. There was a general cry of admiration:
"Why, she's magnificent!"
We stepped out of the trap and I pushed Rose towards the party, with whispered words of encouragement; but, suddenly bending forward, with her feet wide apart, her arms-swinging and her cheeks on fire, she dips here and there in a series of awkward bows....
They were kind enough not to laugh; and I led the girl through the great, cool echoing rooms, multiplied by the mirrors and filled with marvels....