That which had the attraction of novelty for her sister, had for her the charm of recollection.

She told of the vintage harvests to which her parents had taken her; the rides on Mother Luret's donkey, that they could not make go to the right without pulling him to the left; the cherry-gathering; and the sails on the lake in the innkeeper's boat.
These recollections have all the charm and freshness of childhood.
Frances recalls to herself less what she has seen than what she has felt.

While she is talking the cloth is laid, and we sit down under a tree.

Before us winds the valley of Sevres, its many-storied houses abutting upon the gardens and the slopes of the hill; on the other side spreads out the park of St.Cloud, with its magnificent clumps of trees interspersed with meadows; above stretch the heavens like an immense ocean, in which the clouds are sailing! I look at this beautiful country, and I listen to these good old maids; I admire, and I am interested; and time passes gently on without my perceiving it.
At last the sun sets, and we have to think of returning.

While Madeleine and Frances clear away the dinner, I walk down to the manufactory to ask the hour.