Jeanne and the vicomte went out and walked slowly down the grass till they reached the little wood at the bottom. They stayed out so long that at last the baroness, feeling tired and wanting to go to her room, said:
"We must call in the lovers."
The baron glanced at the moonlit garden, where the two figures could be seen walking slowly about.
"Leave them alone," he answered, "it is so pleasant out of doors; Lison will wait up for them; won't you, Lison?"
The old maid looked up, and answered in her timid voice: "Oh, yes, certainly."
The baron helped his wife to rise, and, tired himself by the heat of the day,
"I will go to bed, too," he said. And he went upstairs with the baroness.
Then Aunt Lison got up, and, leaving her work on the arm of the easy chair, leant out of the window and looked at the glorious night. The two sweethearts were walking backwards and forwards across the grass, silently pressing each other's hands, as they felt the sweet influence of the visible poetry that surrounded them.
Jeanne saw the old maid's profile in the window, with the lighted lamp behind.
"Look," she said, "Aunt Lison is watching us."