In the course of one such pompous expedition on the river, the little fleet from Mousseaux, sailing on a shimmering mirror of silken awnings and ducal pennons, had gone somewhat further than usual. Paul Astier was in the boat in front of his lady's. He was sitting in the stern beside Laniboire, and was receiving the Academician's confidences. Having been invited to stay at Mousseaux till his report was finished, the old fool fancied that he was making good progress towards the coveted succession; and as always happens in such cases, he chose Paul as the confidant of his hopes. After telling him what he had said and what she had answered, and one thing and another, he was just saying, 'Now, young man, what would you do, if you were me?' when a clear voice of low pitch rang over the water from the boat behind them.
'See yonder, among the reeds. It looks like Védrine.'
Védrine it was, painting away, with his wife and children at his side, on an old flat-bottomed boat moored to a willow branch alongside of a green islet, where the wagtails were chirping themselves hoarse. The boats drew quickly up beside him, any novelty being a break to the everlasting tedium of fashionable society: and while the Duchess greeted with her sweetest smile Madame Védrine, who had once been her guest at Mousseaux, the ladies looked with interest at the artist's strange home and the beautiful children, born of its light and its love, as they lay in the shelter of their green refuge on the clear, placid stream, which reflected the picture of their happiness. After the first greetings, Védrine, palette in hand, gave Paul an account of the doings at Clos Jallanges, which was visible through the mists of the river, half-way up the hill side--a long low white house with an Italian roof. 'My dear fellow, they have all gone crazy there! The vacancy has turned their heads. They spend their days ticking votes--your mother, Picheral, and the poor invalid in her wheelchair. She too has caught the Academic fever, and talks of moving to Paris, entertaining and giving parties to help her brother on.' So Védrine, to escape the general madness, camped out all day and worked in the open air--children and all; and pointing to his old boat he said, with a simple unresentful laugh, 'My dahabeeah, you see; my trip to the Nile.'