But a tiny bell sounded. Breakfast was announced, and they went back into the house. The repast was a silent one. A heavy July noon overwhelmed the earth, and oppressed humanity. The heat seemed thick, and paralyzed both mind and body. The sluggish words would not leave the lips, and all motion seemed laborious, as if the air had become a resisting medium, difficult to traverse. Only Yvette, although silent, seemed animated and nervous with impatience. As soon as they had finished the last course she said:
"If we were to go for a walk in the forest, it would be deliciously cool under the trees."
The Marquise murmured with a listless air: "Are you mad? Does anyone go out in such weather?"
And the young girl, delighted, rejoined: "Oh, well! We will leave the Baron to keep you company. Muscade and I will climb the hill and sit on the grass and read."
And turning toward Servigny she asked: "That is understood?"
"At your service, Mam'zelle," he replied.
Yvette ran to get her hat. The Marquise shrugged her shoulders with a sigh. "She certainly is mad." she said.
Then with an indolence in her amorous and lazy gestures, she gave her pretty white hand to the Baron, who kissed it softly. Yvette and Servigny started. They went along the river, crossed the bridge and went on to the island, and then seated themselves on the bank, beneath the willows, for it was too soon to go to La Grenouillere.
The young girl at once drew a book from her pocket and smilingly said: "Muscade, you are going to read to me." And she handed him the volume.
He made a motion as if of fright. "I, Mam'zelle? I don't know how to read!"