him—a fine youth, tall, strong-built, well-spoken, with blond hair and dark, keen eyes. I admit frankly I had not seen a better figure of a man. I assure you, he had the form of Hercules, the eye of Mars. It was an eye to command—women; for I had small reason to admire his courage when I knew him better. He took a hand of each young lady, and kissed it with admirable gallantry.
"Dieu! it is not so easy always to agree with one's father," said Louison.
We went riding that afternoon—Thérèse and her marquis and Louison and I. The first two went on ahead of us; we rode slowly, and for a time no word was spoken. Winds had stripped the timber, and swept its harvest to the walls and hollows, where it lay bleaching in the sun. Birch and oak and maple were holding bared arms to the wind, as if to toughen them for storm and stress. I felt a mighty sadness, wondering if my own arms were quite seasoned for all that was to come. The merry-hearted girl beside me was ever like a day of June—the color of the rose in her cheek, its odor always in her hair and lace. There was never an hour of autumn in her life.
