The lady’s maid never budged an inch.  Madame must really be raving mad.  For now the rain was coming down in torrents, and the little white silk sunshade was already dark with it.  Nor did it shelter Madame, whose skirts were wringing wet.  But that didn’t put her out in the smallest degree, and in the pouring rain she visited the kitchen garden and the orchard, stopping in front of every fruit tree and bending over every bed of vegetables.  Then she ran and looked down the well and lifted up a frame to see what was underneath it and was lost in the contemplation of a huge pumpkin.  She wanted to go along every single garden walk and to take immediate possession of all the things she had been wont to dream of in the old days, when she was a slipshod work-girl on the Paris pavements.  The rain redoubled, but she never heeded it and was only miserable at the thought that the daylight was fading.  She could not see clearly now and touched things with her fingers to find out what they were.  Suddenly in the twilight she caught sight of a bed of strawberries, and all that was childish in her awoke.

“Strawberries!  Strawberries!  There are some here; I can feel them.  A plate, Zoe!  Come and pick strawberries.”

And dropping her sunshade, Nana crouched down in the mire under the full force of the downpour.  With drenched hands she began gathering the fruit among the leaves.  But Zoe in the meantime brought no plate, and when the young woman rose to her feet again she was frightened.  She thought she had seen a shadow close to her.

“It’s some beast!” she screamed.

But she stood rooted to the path in utter amazement.  It was a man, and she recognized him.

“Gracious me, it’s Baby!  What are you doing there, baby?”

“’Gad, I’ve come—­that’s all!” replied Georges.

Her head swam.

“You knew I’d come through the gardener telling you?  Oh, that poor child!  Why, he’s soaking!”

“Oh, I’ll explain that to you!  The rain caught me on my way here, and then, as I didn’t wish to go upstream as far as Gumieres, I crossed the Choue and fell into a blessed hole.”

Nana forgot the strawberries forthwith.  She was trembling and full of pity.  That poor dear Zizi in a hole full of water!  And she drew him with her in the direction of the house and spoke of making up a roaring fire.

“You know,” he murmured, stopping her among the shadows, “I was in hiding because I was afraid of being scolded, like in Paris, when I come and see you and you’re not expecting me.”

She made no reply but burst out laughing and gave him a kiss on the forehead.  Up till today she had always treated him like a naughty urchin, never taking his declarations seriously and amusing herself at his expense as though he were a little man of no consequence whatever.  There was much ado to install him in the house.  She absolutely insisted on the fire being lit in her bedroom, as being the most comfortable place for his reception.  Georges had not surprised Zoe, who was used to all kinds of encounters, but the gardener, who brought the wood upstairs, was greatly nonplused at sight of this dripping gentleman to whom he was certain he had not opened the front door.  He was, however, dismissed, as he was no longer wanted.