In front of the house a beautiful lawn with a border of orange trees, afforded a pleasant relief to the eye. And on each side, broad paths of lindens afforded during the hottest weather a promenade where the sun was not allowed to penetrate.
Georget himself, despite the painful thoughts which oppressed his heart, could not remain indifferent to all the beauties which nature lavished about him. Those majestic trees, those flower-laden shrubs, that green lawn, the balmy air, everything appealed to his senses; he felt a sort of alleviation of his pain, his brow brightened, and for the first time since his departure from Paris, he looked with interest at his surroundings.
"What! are we going to live here?" cried Georget's mother. "Why, it isn't possible! it's too beautiful! This house is a regular château! I shall never dare to go into it."
"This not all," said Pongo; "you'll see the garden, the orchard, the kitchen garden, fine fruit, big cabbages, nice sweet little peas--we have everything! And then the poultry yard--little chickens, pigeons, ducks, turkeys! Oh! me like roast turkey!"
"This place is a kind of paradise on earth."
"Monsieur Pongo, it would be very kind of you to go to your master and tell him that we have come, and ask him if he still wants us; for perhaps he may have different ideas now."
"Oh, he want you! he want you! Me go tell him; look, me see him over there in the garden; me run and take him Mamzelle Zima, to make him pleased. Wait, wait!"
The mulatto left his travelling companions, to tell his master of their arrival. Georget remained with his mother, who continued to admire all that she saw, and walked along the paths with great caution, as if she were afraid of leaving her footprints there. But from time to time she glanced at her son, who had relapsed into reverie.
"I mustn't seem to notice his sadness," she said to herself; "it will pass away. At his age, it isn't possible that it will resist distractions, and we shall have enough of them here! A month from now I will wager that he won't give a thought to his love-affair in Paris!"
The Comte de Brévanne, notified by Pongo, soon appeared to receive the new arrivals; he greeted Madame Brunoy kindly, and she outdid herself in reverences; then he tapped Georget on the shoulder, and said to him: