Monsieur and Madame Arnoux were in the far corner to the right. He took a seat on the long bench covered with velvet, having picked up a newspaper which he found there.

They would have to take the stagecoach at Montereau for Châlons. Their tour in Switzerland would last a month. Madame Arnoux blamed her husband for his weakness in dealing with his child. He whispered in her ear something endearing, no doubt, for she smiled. Then, he got up to close the window curtain at her back.

Under the low, white ceiling, a harsh light filled the cabin. Frédéric, sitting opposite her, could distinguish the shadow of her eyelashes. She sipped from her glass and broke a crust of bread between her fingers. The lapis-lazuli locket fastened by a little gold chain to her wrist made a ringing sound, every now and then, as it touched her plate. Those present, however, did not appear to notice it.

From time to time one could see, through the small port-holes, a boat pulling up to take passengers on or off. Those at the tables stooped to see through the openings, and called out the names of the various places they passed along the river.

Arnoux complained about the cooking. He grumbled particularly at the amount of the bill, and got it reduced. Then, he led the young man towards the front of the boat to drink a glass of grog with him. But Frédéric speedily came back again under the awning where Madame Arnoux had seated herself. She was reading a thin, grey-covered volume. From time to time, the corners of her mouth curled and a gleam of pleasure lit up her face. He felt jealous of the inventor of those things which appeared to interest her so much. The more he contemplated her, the more he felt that there were yawning abysses between them. He was reflecting that he should very soon part from her forever, without having extracted a few words from her, without leaving her even a souvenir!

On the right, a plain stretched out. On the left, a strip of pasture-land rose gently to meet a hillock where one could see vineyards, groups of walnut-trees, a mill nestled in the grassy slopes, and, beyond that, little paths zigzagged across the white rocks that seemed to reach up towards the sky. What bliss it would have been to ascend side by side with her, his arm around her waist, while her gown would sweep the yellow leaves, listening to her voice and gazing into her eyes! The steamboat might stop, and all they would have to do was to step out of it; and yet this thing, simple as it might be, was no less difficult than it would have been to move the sun.

A little further on, a chateau appeared with pointed roof and square turrets. A flower garden spread out in the foreground; and avenues ran, like dark archways, under the tall linden trees. He pictured her passing along by this group of trees. At that moment a young lady and a young man appeared on the steps in front of the house, between the trunks of the orange trees. Then the entire scene vanished.

The little girl kept skipping playfully around the place where he had stationed himself on the deck. Frédéric wished to kiss her. She hid herself behind her nurse. Her mother scolded her for not being nice to the gentleman who had rescued her shawl. Was this an indirect overture?

“Is she going to speak to me?” he asked himself

Time was flying. How was he to get an invitation to the Arnoux’s house? And he could think of nothing better than to draw her attention to the autumnal hues, adding:

“We are close to winter—the season of balls and dinner-parties.”

But Arnoux was entirely occupied with his luggage.