“And so Raesel used to repeat to me endless conversations of this sort.  It was marvellous!  If you only heard her you would be capable of falling in love with a dogrose, or of feeling a lively sympathy and a profound sentiment of compassion for a violet, its misfortunes and its silent sufferings.

“What more can I tell you, ladies?  It is painful to leave a subject where the soul has so many mysterious emanations; there is such a field for conjecture; but as everything in this world must have an end, so must even the pleasantest dreams.

“Early in the morning of the third day of my stay a gentle breeze began to roll away the mist from off the lake.  I could see its folds become larger every second as the wind drove them along, leaving one blue corner in the sky, and then another; then the tower of a village church, some green pinnacles on the tops of the mountains, then a row of firs, a valley, all the time the immense mass of vapour slowly floated past us; by ten it had left us behind it, and the great cloud on the dry peaks of the Chasseron still wore a threatening aspect; but a last effort of the wind gave it a different direction, and it disappeared at last in the gorges of Saint-Croix.

“Then the mighty nature of the Alps seemed to me to have grown young again; the heather, the tall pines, the old chestnut-trees dripping with dew, shone with vigorous health; there was something in the view of them joyous, smiling, and serious all at once.  One felt the hand of God was in it all—­His eternity.

“I went downstairs lost in thought; Raesel was already in the apiary.  Young opened the door and pointed her out to me sitting in the shade of the wild vine, with her forehead resting on her hands, as if in a doze.

“‘Be careful,’ said he to me, ’not to awake her; her mind is elsewhere; she sleeps; she is wandering about; she is happy.’

“The bees were swarming about by thousands, like a flood of gold over a precipice.

“I looked on at this wonderful sight for some seconds, praying the Lord would continue His love for the poor child.

“Then turning round—­

“‘Master Young,’ said I, ‘it is time to go.’

“He buckled my knapsack on for me himself, and put my stick into my hand.

“Mistress Catherine looked on kindly, and they both accompanied me to the threshold of the chalet.

“‘Farewell!’ said Walter, grasping my hand; ’a pleasant journey; and think of us sometimes!’

“‘I can never forget you,’ I replied, quite melancholy; ’may your bees flourish, and may Heaven grant you are as happy as you deserve to be!’

“‘So be it, M. Hennetius,’ said good Dame Catherine; ’amen; a happy journey, and good health to you.’

“I moved off.

“They remained on the terrace until I reached the road.

“Thrice I turned round and waved my cap, and they responded by waving their hands.