Book account

At a part of the road which is shaded, dewy, and verdant as a forest
glade, where the wheels of the carriage scarcely sounded, and the
breeze brought down balsamic odors and waved the branches above their
heads, Camille called Madame de Rochefide's attention to the harmonies
of the place, and pressed her knee to make her look at Calyste.
"How well he rides!" she said.
"Oh! Calyste does everything well," said Charlotte.
"He rides like an Englishman," said the marquise, indifferently.
"His mother is Irish,--an O'Brien," continued Charlotte, who thought
herself insulted by such indifference.
Camille and the marquise drove through Guerande with the viscountess
and her daughter, to the great astonishment of the inhabitants of the
town. They left the mother and daughter at the end of the lane leading
to the Guenic mansion, where a crowd came near gathering, attracted by
so unusual a sight. Calyste had ridden on to announce the arrival of
the company to his mother and aunt, who expected them to dinner, that
meal having been postponed till four o'clock.


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