"Yes, that's true," replied La Louve, almost mechanically, who became more and more forgetful of the reality, and almost believed she saw before her the smiling pictures which the poetical imagination of Fleur-de-Marie, so instinctively amorous of the beauties of nature, presented before her.
Delighted at the deep attention which her companion lent her, La Goualeuse continued, allowing herself to be drawn on by the charm of the thoughts which she called up:
"There is one thing which I love almost as well as the silence of the woods, and that is the noise of the heavy drops of rain falling on the leaves; do you like that, too?"
"Oh, yes! I am very fond of a summer shower."
"So am I; and when the trees, the moss, and the grass, are all moistened, what a delightfully fresh odour they give out! And then, how the sun, as it passes over the trees, makes all the little drops of water glisten as they hang from the leaves! Have you ever noticed that?"
"Yes; I remember it now because you tell me of it. Yet, how droll all this is! But, Goualeuse, you talk so well that one seems to see everything,—to see everything just as you talk; and then, I really do not know how to explain it all. But now, what you say seems good, it is quite pleasant,—just like the rain we were talking of."
"Oh, don't suppose that we are the only creatures who love a summer shower! The dear little birds, how delighted they are! How they shake their feathers, whilst they warble so joyously; not more joyously, though, than your children,—your children as free, and gay, and light-hearted as they! And then, look! as the day declines the youngest children run across the wood to meet the elder, who brings back the two heifers from pasture, for they have heard the tinkling of the bell in the distance!"
"Yes, Goualeuse, and I think I see the smallest and boldest, whom his brother has put astride on the back of one of the cows."
"And one would say that the poor animal knows what burden she bears, she steps so carefully. But it is supper-time; your eldest child, whilst he has been tending the cows at pasture, has amused himself with gathering for you a basket of beautiful strawberries, which he has brought quite fresh under a thick covering of wild violets."
"Strawberries and violets,—ah, what a lovely smell they have! But where the deuce did you find all these ideas, La Goualeuse?"