Butbothhadfledintheirexasperation。Emmawasstampingherfeetassherepeated——
“Oh!whatmanners!Whatapeasant!“
Herantohismother；shewasbesideherself。Shestammered“Sheisaninsolent，giddy-headedthing，orperhapsworse!“
Andshewasforleavingatonceiftheotherdidnotapologise。
SoCharleswentbackagaintohiswifeandimploredhertogiveway；heknelttoher；sheendedbysaying——
“Verywell!I’llgotoher。“
Andinfactsheheldoutherhandtohermother-in-lawwiththedignityofamarchionessasshesaid——
“Excuseme，madame。“
Then，havinggoneupagaintoherroom，shethrewherselfflatonherbedandcriedtherelikeachild，herfaceburiedinthepillow。
SheandRodolphehadagreedthatintheeventofanythingextraordinaryoccurring，sheshouldfastenasmallpieceofwhitepapertotheblind，sothatifbychancehehappenedtobeinYonville，hecouldhurrytothelanebehindthehouse。Emmamadethesignal；shehadbeenwaitingthree-quartersofanhourwhenshesuddenlycaughtsightofRodolpheatthecornerofthemarket。Shefelttemptedtoopenthewindowandcallhim，buthehadalreadydisappeared。Shefellbackindespair。
Soon，however，itseemedtoherthatsomeonewaswalkingonthepavement。Itwashe，nodoubt。Shewentdownstairs，crossedtheyard。Hewasthereoutside。Shethrewherselfintohisarms。
“Dotakecare!“hesaid。
“Ah!ifyouknew!“shereplied。
Andshebegantellinghimeverything，hurriedly，disjointedly，exaggeratingthefacts，inventingmany，andsoprodigalofparenthesesthatheunderstoodnothingofit。
“Come，mypoorangel，courage!Becomforted!bepatient!“
“ButIhavebeenpatient；Ihavesufferedforfouryears。Alovelikeoursoughttoshowitselfinthefaceofheaven。Theytortureme!Icanbearitnolonger!Saveme!“
SheclungtoRodolphe。Hereyes，fulloftears，flashedlikeflamesbeneathawave；herbreastheaved；hehadneverlovedhersomuch，sothathelosthisheadandsaid“Whatis，it？Whatdoyouwish？“
“Takemeaway，“shecried，“carrymeoff!Oh，Iprayyou!“
Andshethrewherselfuponhismouth，asiftoseizetheretheunexpectedconsentifbreathedforthinakiss。
“But——“Rodolpheresumed。
“What？“
“Yourlittlegirl!“
Shereflectedafewmoments，thenreplied——
“Wewilltakeher!Itcan’tbehelped!“
“Whatawoman!“hesaidtohimself，watchingherasshewent。Forshehadrunintothegarden。Someonewascallingher。
OnthefollowingdaysMadameBovaryseniorwasmuchsurprisedatthechangeinherdaughter-in-law。Emma，infact，wasshowingherselfmoredocile，andevencarriedherdeferencesofarastoaskforarecipeforpicklinggherkins。
Wasitthebettertodeceivethemboth？Ordidshewishbyasortofvoluptuousstoicismtofeelthemoreprofoundlythebitternessofthethingsshewasabouttoleave？
Butshepaidnoheedtothem；onthecontrary，shelivedaslostintheanticipateddelightofhercominghappiness。
ItwasaneternalsubjectforconversationwithRodolphe。Sheleantonhisshouldermurmuring——
“Ah!whenweareinthemail-coach!Doyouthinkaboutit？Canitbe？ItseemstomethatthemomentIfeelthecarriagestart，itwillbeasifwewererisinginaballoon，asifweweresettingoutfortheclouds。DoyouknowthatIcountthehours？Andyou？“
NeverhadMadameBovarybeensobeautifulasatthisperiod；shehadthatindefinablebeautythatresultsfromjoy，fromenthusiasm，fromsuccess，andthatisonlytheharmonyoftemperamentwithcircumstances。Herdesires，hersorrows，theexperienceofpleasure，andherever-youngillusions，thathad，assoilandrainandwindsandthesunmakeflowersgrow，graduallydevelopedher，andsheatlengthblossomedforthinalltheplenitudeofhernature。Hereyelidsseemedchiselledexpresslyforherlongamorouslooksinwhichthepupildisappeared，whileastronginspirationexpandedherdelicatenostrilsandraisedthefleshycornerofherlips，shadedinthelightbyalittleblackdown。Onewouldhavethoughtthatanartistaptinconceptionhadarrangedthecurlsofhairuponherneck；theyfellinathickmass，negligently，andwiththechangingchancesoftheiradultery，thatunboundthemeveryday。
Hervoicenowtookmoremellowinfections，herfigurealso；
somethingsubtleandpenetratingescapedevenfromthefoldsofhergownandfromthelineofherfoot。Charles，aswhentheywerefirstmarried，thoughtherdeliciousandquiteirresistible。
Whenhecamehomeinthemiddleofthenight，hedidnotdaretowakeher。Theporcelainnight-lightthrewaroundtremblinggleamupontheceiling，andthedrawncurtainsofthelittlecotformedasitwereawhitehutstandingoutintheshade，andbythebedsideCharleslookedatthem。Heseemedtohearthelightbreathingofhischild。Shewouldgrowbignow；everyseasonwouldbringrapidprogress。Healreadysawhercomingfromschoolasthedaydrewin，laughing，withink-stainsonherjacket，andcarryingherbasketonherarm。Thenshewouldhavetobesenttotheboarding-school；thatwouldcostmuch；howwasittobedone？
Thenhereflected。Hethoughtofhiringasmallfarmintheneighbourhood，thathewouldsuperintendeverymorningonhiswaytohispatients。Hewouldsaveupwhathebroughtin；hewouldputitinthesavings-bank。Thenhewouldbuysharessomewhere，nomatterwhere；besides，hispracticewouldincrease；hecounteduponthat，forhewantedBerthetobewell-educated，tobeaccomplished，tolearntoplaythepiano。Ah!howprettyshewouldbelateronwhenshewasfifteen，when，resemblinghermother，shewould，likeher，wearlargestrawhatsinthesummer-time；fromadistancetheywouldbetakenfortwosisters。
Hepicturedhertohimselfworkingintheeveningbytheirsidebeneaththelightofthelamp；shewouldembroiderhimslippers；
shewouldlookafterthehouse；shewouldfillallthehomewithhercharmandhergaiety。Atlast，theywouldthinkofhermarriage；theywouldfindhersomegoodyoungfellowwithasteadybusiness；hewouldmakeherhappy；thiswouldlastforever。
Emmawasnotasleep；shepretendedtobe；andwhilehedozedoffbyhersidesheawakenedtootherdreams。
Tothegallopoffourhorsesshewascarriedawayforaweektowardsanewland，whencetheywouldreturnnomore。Theywentonandon，theirarmsentwined，withoutaword。Oftenfromthetopofamountaintheresuddenlyglimpsedsomesplendidcitywithdomes，andbridges，andships，forestsofcitrontrees，andcathedralsofwhitemarble，onwhosepointedsteepleswerestorks’nests。Theywentatawalking-pacebecauseofthegreatflag-stones，andonthegroundtherewerebouquetsofflowers，offeredyoubywomendressedinredbodices。Theyheardthechimingofbells，theneighingofmules，togetherwiththemurmurofguitarsandthenoiseoffountains，whoserisingsprayrefreshedheapsoffruitarrangedlikeapyramidatthefootofpalestatuesthatsmiledbeneathplayingwaters。Andthen，onenighttheycametoafishingvillage，wherebrownnetsweredryinginthewindalongthecliffsandinfrontofthehuts。Itwastherethattheywouldstay；theywouldliveinalow，flat-roofedhouse，shadedbyapalm-tree，intheheartofagulf，bythesea。Theywouldrowingondolas，swinginhammocks，andtheirexistencewouldbeeasyandlargeastheirsilkgowns，warmandstar-spangledasthenightstheywouldcontemplate。However，intheimmensityofthisfuturethatsheconjuredup，nothingspecialstoodforth；thedays，allmagnificent，resembledeachotherlikewaves；anditswayedinthehorizon，infinite，harmonised，azure，andbathedinsunshine。ButthechildbegantocoughinhercotorBovarysnoredmoreloudly，andEmmadidnotfallasleeptillmorning，whenthedawnwhitenedthewindows，andwhenlittleJustinwasalreadyinthesquaretakingdowntheshuttersofthechemist’sshop。
ShehadsentforMonsieurLheureux，andhadsaidtohim——
“Iwantacloak——alargelinedcloakwithadeepcollar。“
“Youaregoingonajourney？“heasked。
“No；but——nevermind。Imaycountonyou，mayInot，andquickly？“
Hebowed。
“Besides，Ishallwant，“shewenton，“atrunk——nottooheavy——
handy。“
“Yes，yes，Iunderstand。Aboutthreefeetbyafootandahalf，astheyarebeingmadejustnow。“
“Andatravellingbag。“
“Decidedly，“thoughtLheureux。“there’sarowonhere。“
“And，“saidMadameBovary，takingherwatchfromherbelt，“takethis；youcanpayyourselfoutofit。“
Butthetradesmancriedoutthatshewaswrong；theyknewoneanother；didhedoubther？Whatchildishness!