“Look, Lucien.”
And, seeing the bare tops of the trees, Monsieur Bergeret smiled.
“These black boughs,” he said, “will assume, in the timid April sunlight, the purple hue of their buds; then they will break forth into soft green foliage. That will be delightful. It will, indeed, be charming. Zoe, you are full of wisdom and kindness, a worthy steward and a most endearing sister. Let me kiss you.”
Monsieur Bergeret kissed his sister, repeating:
“You are a good creature, Zoe.”
And Mademoiselle Bergeret’s reply was:
“Our father and mother were both good.”
Monsieur Bergeret would have embraced her a second time, but she protested:
“You’ll make my hair untidy, Lucien, and that I can’t bear.”
Monsieur Bergeret stretched out his hand as he stood by the open window.