"Very pretty! although the rhyme isn't first-cla.s.s," said Auguste, quickening his pace to overtake the girl. She turned, and seemed surprised to see the young man in the path behind her.

"What! you coming this way?" said the milkmaid, in a somewhat uncertain voice.

"To be sure; this path is lovely."

"Ain't you going to overtake your carriage?"

"I couldn't make up my mind to leave you."

"Oh! you're wasting your time, monsieur, and I promise you you'd do better to go after your carriage."

"But I much prefer to walk by your side, although you treat me so harshly; however, I have an idea that you're not so unkind as you choose to appear."

"Well, you're mistaken; I ain't kind at all; ask all the young fellows in Montfermeil how I treat them when they try to fool. Oh! Denise Fourcy is well known hereabout, I tell you."

"Denise Fourcy? Good, now I know your name."

"Well, what then? How does that put you ahead any?"

"It will help me to find out about you easily, and to find you again when I choose."

"Pardi! I ain't lost, and anyone can easily find me."

"Do you mean to say, Denise, that at your age, pretty as you are, you haven't a lover?"

"Is that any of your business?"

"Oh! very much!"

"Here in the country we ain't in such a hurry as your city ladies."

"Haven't women hearts in the country as well as elsewhere?"

"Yes; but they don't take fire the way yours does; it seems to me to be a little heart of tinder."

"Upon my word, she is really amusing!" said Auguste, laughingly.

"_She!_" repeated the milkmaid in an irritated tone; "how polite these fine gentlemen are! _She!_ Anyone would think we had known each other a long while."

"It depends entirely on you whether or not we shall be the best friends in the world in a moment. And to begin with, I must give you a kiss."

"No--no, monsieur--none of that sort of thing, if you please.--Oh! look out, or I'll scratch you."

Auguste, accustomed to defy such prohibitions, seized the little milkmaid by the waist, and tried to put his lips to her fresh, ruddy cheek; but she defended herself more vigorously than the city ladies do; to be sure, a peasant is less embarra.s.sed by her clothes, she isn't afraid of rumpling them, and her corsets are not so tight that she cannot move her arms; that is the reason no doubt that a kiss is much harder to obtain from a peasant.

The kiss was taken at last; but it cost Auguste dear, for he bore below his left eye the marks of two nails which had drawn blood from the Parisian dandy's face. Thus each of the combatants was beaten, for each bore a token of defeat. But the war seemed not to be at an end. Denise, twice as red as she was before the battle, arranged her neckerchief, glaring angrily at the young man; while he put his hand to his face, and, finding blood there, wiped it with his handkerchief, looking at the girl with a less sentimental expression; for those two digs with her nails had cooled his ardor to an extraordinary degree.

"I'm glad of it," said the girl at last; "that will teach you to try to kiss a girl against her will, monsieur."

"I certainly didn't expect to be treated so. The idea of disfiguring me--just for a kiss!"

"If all women did the same, you wouldn't be so forward."

"Thank G.o.d, they don't all have the same ideas that you have. You hurt me terribly!"

"Oh! what troubles you the most is that it will show; you're afraid you won't be so pretty to look at."

"No, I a.s.sure you that that isn't what I am thinking about. I am sorry that I really made you angry. I realize that I was wrong. Come, Denise, let us make peace."

"No, monsieur, no, I don't listen to you any more."

And the milkmaid, thinking that the young man intended to try to kiss her again, ran to her donkey, and, in order to fly more rapidly, leaped on White Jean's back, and beat him with redoubled force. But it was the animal's custom to return placidly to the village, browsing on whatever he found by the roadside, and not to bear his young mistress on his back. Disturbed in his daily routine by this unexpected burden, White Jean broke into a fast trot, and entered the woods despite his mistress's efforts to make him follow the beaten path. Auguste heard the girl's cries as she tried in vain to hold her steed, dodging with much difficulty the branches which brushed against her face every instant. Forgetting the marks that Denise had left on his cheek, Dalville followed the milkmaid's track, in order to lead the a.s.s back into the path; but when he heard running behind him, the infernal beast went faster than ever and rushed heedlessly into the densest part of the wood. Soon a stout branch barred the milkmaid's path. While her mount ran beneath it, she was swept to the ground; and as she fell another branch caught her skirt; so that poor Denise fell to the ground, face downward, with her skirt over her head and consequently not where it usually was.

Auguste came up at that moment. You can imagine the sight that met his eyes; and what the skirt no longer covered was white and plump and fresh. But we must do the young man justice; instead of amusing himself by contemplating so many attractive things, he ran to Denise. She shrieked and wept and gnashed her teeth. He succeeded in rescuing her head from her petticoats, and quickly covered--what you know.

Denise rose; but she was covered with confusion, she dared not look up at the young man, who, far from taking advantage of her embarra.s.sment, inquired solicitously whether she was hurt.

"Oh, no! it ain't anything," said Denise, still blushing. "I should have forgotten all about it before this if that cursed branch--Pardi! I must be mighty unlucky."

"Why so? because you fell? Why, my dear child, that might happen to anybody."

"Yes, but it's possible to fall without showing--without--Never mind, you're the first one that ever saw it, all the same."

"Ah! I would like to be the last one, too.--Come, why this offended expression? I promise you that I didn't see anything; I thought of nothing but helping you. I was so afraid that you had hurt yourself! It would have been my fault; for, if it hadn't been for my nonsense, you would have gone your way in peace, and this wouldn't have happened."

As Denise listened to Auguste, her anger pa.s.sed away, and she even smiled as she said:

"I ain't cross with you any more. You're more decent than I thought; if I'd fallen like that before the village fellows, they'd have laughed to begin with, and then they'd have made a lot of silly talk, and there wouldn't have been any end to it. Instead of that, you picked me right up, and you looked so scared!--I'm sorry now that I scratched you. Come, kiss me, to prove that you forgive me."

Auguste made the most of this permission. Denise was so pretty when she smiled! and a woman who defends herself so st.u.r.dily makes the favors that she grants seem the more precious.

So peace was made between the milkmaid and the young man. But White Jean was no longer there; overjoyed to be rid of his burden, he had kept on through the woods.

"Oh! I ain't worried," said Denise; "I'm sure he's gone home. Let's take this path and we shall soon be in the village."

They walked on; the milkmaid beside Auguste, who once more considered her a charming creature, since she had smiled upon him and had allowed him to kiss her. In truth, Denise's face was no longer the same; an angry expression is not becoming to a pretty face, and features that are made to inspire love should never express wrath. But they soon emerged from the woods and descended a hill, at the foot of which lay Montfermeil.

"There's my village," said Denise; "and look, do you see my a.s.s trotting along down there? Oh! I knew he'd go right home.--Have you got business in the neighborhood?"

"No, not exactly. I am going to Monsieur Destival's country place. Do you know it?"

"To be sure; I carry milk to them, when Madame Destival stays there in summer. She always tells me to be careful about her little cheeses. You see, I make nice ones. I carried them a bigger one this morning, because Mamzelle Julie, madame's maid, told me they expected company from Paris."

"That being so, I probably shall have the pleasure of tasting your cheeses."

"But if you're going to Monsieur Destival's, you mustn't go to the village. I'll show you what road you must take."

"It will be much kinder of you to go with me and show me the way; as you are not anxious about your a.s.s, there is nothing to hurry you."