"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!"She replied with gravity: "Come, no excuses, no objections; you are a fine suitor, you! All for nothing, is that it? Is that your motto?"He took the book, opened it, and was astonished.It was a treatise on entomology.A history of ants by an English author.And as he remained inert, believing that he was making sport of her, she said with impatience: "Well, read!""Is it a wager, or just a simple fad?" he asked.
"No, my dear.I saw that book in a shop.They told me that it was the best authority on ants and I thought that it would be interesting to learn about the life of these little insects while you see them running over the grass; so read, if you please."She stretched herself flat upon the grass, her elbows resting upon the ground, her head between her hands, her eyes fixed upon the ground.He began to read as follows:
"The anthropoid apes are undoubtedly the animals which approach nearest to man by their anatomical structure, but if we consider the habits of the ants, their organization into societies, their vast communities, the houses and roads that they construct, their custom of domesticating animals, and sometimes even of making slaves of them, we are compelled to admit that they have the right to claim a place near to man in the scale of intelligence."He continued in a monotonous voice, stopping from time to time to ask: "Isn't that enough?"She shook her head, and having caught an ant on the end of a severed blade of grass, she amused herself by making it go from one end to the other of the sprig, which she tipped up whenever the insect reached one of the ends.She listened with mute and contented attention to all the wonderful details of the life of these frail creatures: their subterranean homes; the manner in which they seize, shut up, and feed plant-lice to drink the sweet milk which they secrete, as we keep cows in our barns; their custom of domesticating little blind insects which clean the anthills, and of going to war to capture slaves who will take care of their victors with such tender solicitude that the latter even lose the habit of feeding themselves.
And little by little, as if a maternal tenderness had sprung up in her heart for the poor insect which was so tiny and so intelligent, Yvette made it climb on her finger, looking at it with a moved expression, almost wanting to embrace it.
And as Servigny read of the way in which they live in communities, and play games of strength and skill among themselves, the young girl grew enthusiastic and sought to kiss the insect which escaped her and began to crawl over her face.Then she uttered a piercing cry, as if she had been threatened by a terrible danger, and with frantic gestures tried to brush it off her face.With a loud laugh Servigny caught it near her tresses and imprinted on the spot where he had seized it a long kiss without Yvette withdrawing her forehead.
Then she exclaimed as she rose: "That is better than a novel.Now let us go to La Grenouillere."They reached that part of the island which is set out as a park and shaded with great trees.Couples were strolling beneath the lofty foliage along the Seine, where the boats were gliding by.
The boats were filled with young people, working-girls and their sweethearts, the latter in their shirt-sleeves, with coats on their arms, tall hats tipped back, and a jaded look.There were tradesmen with their families, the women dressed in their best and the children flocking like little chicks about their parents.A distant, continuous sound of voices, a heavy, scolding clamor announced the proximity of the establishment so dear to the boatmen.
Suddenly they saw it.It was a huge boat, roofed over, moored to the bank.On board were many men and women drinking at tables, or else standing up, shouting, singing, bandying words, dancing, capering, to the sound of a piano which was groaning--out of tune and rattling as an old kettle.
Two tall, russet-haired, half-tipsy girls, with red lips, were talking coarsely.Others were dancing madly with young fellows half clad, dressed like jockeys, in linen trousers and colored caps.The odors of a crowd and of rice-powder were noticeable.
The drinkers around the tables were swallowing white, red, yellow, and green liquids, and vociferating at the top of their lungs, feeling as it were, the necessity of making a noise, a brutal need of having their ears and brains filled with uproar.Now and then a swimmer, standing on the roof, dived into the water, splashing the nearest guests, who yelled like savages.
