THE STARS 107

I said, ‘It is on account of high mass,’
then towards noon a great storm came
on, and I thought that the mule had
not been able to set out because of the
bad state of the road. At last, about
three o’clock, the sky was washed clear,
the mountain shining moist in the sun-
light, and I heard, through the dripping
of the raindrops from the leaves and
the overflow of the swollen brooks, the
mule bells as joyous and brisk as a peal
of bells on Easter Day. But it was
not the little #zavro nor old Norade
who was riding. It was, guess who?
Our young lady, my children, our
young lady herself, seated erect among
the willow-baskets, all flushed with the
mountain air and the freshness after
the storm.

The boy was ill. Aunt Norade was
gone for a holiday with her children.
The beautiful Stephanette told me all
this as she got off her mule, and also
that she was late because she had lost
her way; but she was in her Sunday