“Ah!verygood!Ithankyou。“
　　Andassoonastheywerealone，“Whydon’tyouacceptMonsieurBoulanger’skindoffer？“
　　Sheassumedasulkyair，inventedathousandexcuses，andfinallydeclaredthatperhapsitwouldlookodd。
　　“Well，whatthedeucedoIcareforthat？“saidCharles，makingapirouette。“Healthbeforeeverything!Youarewrong。“
　　“AndhowdoyouthinkIcanridewhenIhaven’tgotahabit？“
　　“Youmustorderone，“heanswered。
　　Theriding-habitdecidedher。
　　Whenthehabitwasready，CharleswrotetoMonsieurBoulangerthathiswifewasathiscommand，andthattheycountedonhisgood-nature。
　　ThenextdayatnoonRodolpheappearedatCharles’sdoorwithtwosaddle-horses。Onehadpinkrosettesathisearsandadeerskinside-saddle。
　　Rodolphehadputonhighsoftboots，sayingtohimselfthatnodoubtshehadneverseenanythinglikethem。Infact，Emmawascharmedwithhisappearanceashestoodonthelandinginhisgreatvelvetcoatandwhitecorduroybreeches。Shewasready；shewaswaitingforhim。
　　Justinescapedfromthechemist’stoseeherstart，andthechemistalsocameout。HewasgivingMonsieurBoulangeralittlegoodadvice。
　　“Anaccidenthappenssoeasily。Becareful!Yourhorsesperhapsaremettlesome。“
　　Sheheardanoiseaboveher；itwasFelicitedrummingonthewindowpanestoamuselittleBerthe。Thechildblewherakiss；
　　hermotheransweredwithawaveofherwhip。
　　“Apleasantride!“criedMonsieurHomais。“Prudence!aboveall，prudence!“Andheflourishedhisnewspaperashesawthemdisappear。
　　Assoonashefelttheground，Emma’shorsesetoffatagallop。
　　Rodolphegallopedbyherside。Nowandthentheyexchangedaword。Herfigureslightlybent，herhandwellup，andherrightarmstretchedout，shegaveherselfuptothecadenceofthemovementthatrockedherinhersaddle。AtthebottomofthehillRodolphegavehishorseitshead；theystartedtogetheratabound，thenatthetopsuddenlythehorsesstopped，andherlargeblueveilfellabouther。
　　ItwasearlyinOctober。Therewasfogovertheland。Hazycloudshoveredonthehorizonbetweentheoutlinesofthehills；others，rentasunder，floatedupanddisappeared。Sometimesthroughariftintheclouds，beneatharayofsunshine，gleamedfromafartherootsofYonville，withthegardensatthewater’sedge，theyards，thewallsandthechurchsteeple。Emmahalfclosedhereyestopickoutherhouse，andneverhadthispoorvillagewhereshelivedappearedsosmall。Fromtheheightonwhichtheywerethewholevalleyseemedanimmensepalelakesendingoffitsvapourintotheair。Clumpsoftreeshereandtherestoodoutlikeblackrocks，andthetalllinesofthepoplarsthatroseabovethemistwerelikeabeachstirredbythewind。
　　Bytheside，ontheturfbetweenthepines，abrownlightshimmeredinthewarmatmosphere。Theearth，ruddylikethepowderoftobacco，deadenedthenoiseoftheirsteps，andwiththeedgeoftheirshoesthehorsesastheywalkedkickedthefallenfirconesinfrontofthem。
　　RodolpheandEmmathuswentalongtheskirtofthewood。Sheturnedawayfromtimetotimetoavoidhislook，andthenshesawonlythepinetrunksinlines，whosemonotonoussuccessionmadeheralittlegiddy。Thehorseswerepanting；theleatherofthesaddlescreaked。
　　Justastheywereenteringtheforestthesunshoneout。
　　“Godprotectsus!“saidRodolphe。
　　“Doyouthinkso？“shesaid。
　　“Forward!forward!“hecontinued。
　　He“tchk’d“withhistongue。Thetwobeastssetoffatatrot。
　　LongfernsbytheroadsidecaughtinEmma’sstirrup。
　　Rodolpheleantforwardandremovedthemastheyrodealong。Atothertimes，toturnasidethebranches，hepassedclosetoher，andEmmafelthiskneebrushingagainstherleg。Theskywasnowblue，theleavesnolongerstirred。Therewerespacesfullofheatherinflower，andplotsofvioletsalternatedwiththeconfusedpatchesofthetreesthatweregrey，fawn，orgoldencoloured，accordingtothenatureoftheirleaves。Ofteninthethicketwasheardtheflutteringofwings，orelsethehoarse，softcryoftheravensflyingoffamidsttheoaks。
　　Theydismounted。Rodolphefastenedupthehorses。Shewalkedoninfrontonthemossbetweenthepaths。Butherlonghabitgotinherway，althoughshehelditupbytheskirt；andRodolphe，walkingbehindher，sawbetweentheblackclothandtheblackshoethefinenessofherwhitestocking，thatseemedtohimasifitwereapartofhernakedness。
　　Shestopped。“Iamtired，“shesaid。
　　“Come，tryagain，“hewenton。“Courage!“
　　Thensomehundredpacesfartheronsheagainstopped，andthroughherveil，thatfellsidewaysfromherman’shatoverherhips，herfaceappearedinabluishtransparencyasifshewerefloatingunderazurewaves。
　　“Butwherearewegoing？“
　　Hedidnotanswer。Shewasbreathingirregularly。Rodolphelookedroundhimbitinghismoustache。Theycametoalargerspacewherethecoppicehadbeencut。Theysatdownonthetrunkofafallentree，andRodolphebeganspeakingtoherofhislove。Hedidnotbeginbyfrighteningherwithcompliments。Hewascalm，serious，melancholy。
　　Emmalistenedtohimwithbowedhead，andstirredthebitsofwoodonthegroundwiththetipofherfoot。Butatthewords，“Arenotourdestiniesnowone？“
　　“Oh，no!shereplied。“Youknowthatwell。Itisimpossible!“
　　Sherosetogo。Heseizedherbythewrist。Shestopped。Then，havinggazedathimforafewmomentswithanamorousandhumidlook，shesaidhurriedly——
　　“Ah!donotspeakofitagain!Wherearethehorses？Letusgoback。“
　　Hemadeagestureofangerandannoyance。Sherepeated：
　　“Wherearethehorses？Wherearethehorses？“
　　Thensmilingastrangesmile，hispupilfixed，histeethset，headvancedwithoutstretchedarms。Sherecoiledtrembling。Shestammered：
　　“Oh，youfrightenme!Youhurtme!Letmego!“
　　“Ifitmustbe，“hewenton，hisfacechanging；andheagainbecamerespectful，caressing，timid。Shegavehimherarm。Theywentback。Hesaid——
　　“Whatwasthematterwithyou？Why？Idonotunderstand。Youweremistaken，nodoubt。InmysoulyouareasaMadonnaonapedestal，inaplacelofty，secure，immaculate。ButIneedyoutolive!Imusthaveyoureyes，yourvoice，yourthought!Bemyfriend，mysister，myangel!“
　　Andheputouthisarmroundherwaist。Shefeeblytriedtodisengageherself。Hesupportedherthusastheywalkedalong。
　　Buttheyheardthetwohorsesbrowsingontheleaves。
　　“Oh!onemoment!“saidRodolphe。“Donotletusgo!Stay!“
　　Hedrewherfartherontoasmallpoolwhereduckweedsmadeagreennessonthewater。Fadedwaterlilieslaymotionlessbetweenthereeds。Atthenoiseoftheirstepsinthegrass，frogsjumpedawaytohidethemselves。
　　“Iamwrong!Iamwrong!“shesaid。“Iammadtolistentoyou!“
　　“Why？Emma!Emma!“
　　“Oh，Rodolphe!“saidtheyoungwomanslowly，leaningonhisshoulder。
　　Theclothofherhabitcaughtagainstthevelvetofhiscoat。Shethrewbackherwhiteneck，swellingwithasigh，andfaltering，intears，withalongshudderandhidingherface，shegaveherselfuptohim——
　　Theshadesofnightwerefalling；thehorizontalsunpassingbetweenthebranchesdazzledtheeyes。Hereandtherearoundher，intheleavesorontheground，trembledluminouspatches，asithummingbirdsflyingabouthadscatteredtheirfeathers。Silencewaseverywhere；somethingsweetseemedtocomeforthfromthetrees；shefeltherheart，whosebeatinghadbegunagain，andthebloodcoursingthroughherfleshlikeastreamofmilk。Thenfaraway，beyondthewood，ontheotherhills，sheheardavagueprolongedcry，avoicewhichlingered，andinsilenceshehearditminglinglikemusicwiththelastpulsationsofherthrobbingnerves。Rodolphe，acigarbetweenhislips，wasmendingwithhispenknifeoneofthetwobrokenbridles。
　　TheyreturnedtoYonvillebythesameroad。Onthemudtheysawagainthetracesoftheirhorsessidebyside，thesamethickets，thesamestonestothegrass；nothingaroundthemseemedchanged；
　　andyetforhersomethinghadhappenedmorestupendousthanifthemountainshadmovedintheirplaces。Rodolphenowandagainbentforwardandtookherhandtokissit。
　　Shewascharmingonhorseback——upright，withherslenderwaist，herkneebentonthemaneofherhorse，herfacesomewhatflushedbythefreshairintheredoftheevening。
　　OnenteringYonvilleshemadeherhorsepranceintheroad。
　　Peoplelookedatherfromthewindows。