Mathieu, however, had remained absent-minded, with his eyes wandering hither and thither, throughout their walk.  At times he did not hear Marianne when she spoke to him; he lapsed into reverie before some uncultivated tract, some copse overrun with brushwood, some spring which suddenly bubbled up and was then lost in mire.  Nevertheless, she felt that there was no sadness nor feeling of indifference in his heart; for as soon as he returned to her he laughed once more with his soft, loving laugh.  It was she who often sent him roaming about the country, even alone, for she felt that it would do him good; and although she had guessed that something very serious was passing through his mind, she retained full confidence, waiting till it should please him to speak to her.

Now, however, just as he had sunk once more into his reverie, his glance wandering afar, studying the great varied expanse of land, she raised a light cry:  “Oh! look, look!”

Under the big oak tree she had placed Master Gervais in his little carriage, among wild weeds which hid its wheels.  And while she handed a little silver mug, from which it was intended they should drink while taking their snack, she had noticed that the child raised his head and followed the movement of her hand, in which the silver sparkled beneath the sun-rays.  Forthwith she repeated the experiment, and again the child’s eyes followed the starry gleam.

“Ah! it can’t be said that I’m mistaken, and am simply fancying it!” she exclaimed.  “It is certain that he can see quite plainly now.  My pretty pet, my little darling!”

She darted to the child to kiss him in celebration of that first clear glance.  And then, too, came the delight of the first smile.

“Why, look!” in his turn said Mathieu, who was leaning over the child beside her, yielding to the same feeling of rapture, “there he is smiling at you now.  But of course, as soon as these little fellows see clearly they begin to laugh.”

She herself burst into a laugh.  “You are right, he is laughing!  Ah! how funny he looks, and how happy I am!”

Both father and mother laughed together with content at the sight of that infantile smile, vague and fleeting, like a faint ripple on the pure water of some spring.

Amid this joy Marianne called the four others, who were bounding under the young foliage around them:  “Come, Rose! come, Ambroise! come, Blaise and Denis!  It’s time now; come at once to have something to eat.”

They hastened up and the snack was set out on a patch of soft grass.  Mathieu unhooked the basket which hung in front of the baby’s little vehicle; and Marianne, having drawn some slices of bread-and-butter from it, proceeded to distribute them.  Perfect silence ensued while all four children began biting with hearty appetite, which it was a pleasure to see.  But all at once a scream arose.  It came from Master Gervais, who was vexed at not having been served first.