“I would often encounter her also in the corner of a field, sitting on the grass under the shadow of an apple tree, with her little religious booklet lying open on her knee while she gazed out at the distance.

“I could not tear myself away from that quiet country neighborhood, to which I was attached by a thousand links of love for its wide and peaceful landscape.  I was happy in this sequestered farm, far removed from everything, but in touch with the earth, the good, beautiful, green earth.  And—­must I avow it?—­there was, besides, a little curiosity which retained me at the residence of Mother Lecacheur.  I wished to become acquainted a little with this strange Miss Harriet and to know what transpires in the solitary souls of those wandering old English women.

“We became acquainted in a rather singular manner.  I had just finished a study which appeared to me to be worth something, and so it was, as it sold for ten thousand francs fifteen years later.  It was as simple, however, as two and two make four and was not according to academic rules.  The whole right side of my canvas represented a rock, an enormous rock, covered with sea-wrack, brown, yellow and red, across which the sun poured like a stream of oil.  The light fell upon the rock as though it were aflame without the sun, which was at my back, being visible.  That was all.  A first bewildering study of blazing, gorgeous light.

“On the left was the sea, not the blue sea, the slate-colored sea, but a sea of jade, greenish, milky and solid beneath the deep-colored sky.

“I was so pleased with my work that I danced from sheer delight as I carried it back to the inn.  I would have liked the whole world to see it at once.  I can remember that I showed it to a cow that was browsing by the wayside, exclaiming as I did so:  ’Look at that, my old beauty; you will not often see its like again.’

“When I had reached the house I immediately called out to Mother Lecacheur, shouting with all my might: 

“‘Hullo, there!  Mrs. Landlady, come here and look at this.’

“The rustic approached and looked at my work with her stupid eyes which distinguished nothing and could not even tell whether the picture represented an ox or a house.

“Miss Harriet just then came home, and she passed behind me just as I was holding out my canvas at arm’s length, exhibiting it to our landlady.  The demoniac could not help but see it, for I took care to exhibit the thing in such a way that it could not escape her notice.  She stopped abruptly and stood motionless, astonished.  It was her rock which was depicted, the one which she climbed to dream away her time undisturbed.

“She uttered a British ‘Aoh,’ which was at once so accentuated and so flattering that I turned round to her, smiling, and said: 

“‘This is my latest study, mademoiselle.’

“She murmured rapturously, comically and tenderly: