Guillaume loved the beautiful bourgeoise before he knew that such love
was a condescension; and Amable, when, on being desired by her father
to refuse her heart to Guillaume, she thought of inquiring whether she
possessed such a thing at all, started with surprise to find that she
had given it away to the knight's son long ago. But where was the use of
repining? Guillaume was young, and handsome, and generous, and brave;
and what harm could befall her heart in such keeping? Amable turned away
from her father with a light laugh, and a light step, and stealing
skippingly round the garden wall--for already the paternal prohibitions
had gone forth--bounded towards a grove of wild shrubs at the farther
end.

The trees were bathed in sunlight; the air was filled with the song of
birds; the face of heaven was undimmed by a single spot of shade, and
the earth was green, and sparkling, and beautiful beneath. Such was the
scene around her; but in Amable's mind, a warmer and brighter sun shed
its light upon her maiden dreams, and the voice of the sweet, rich
singer Hope drowned the melody of the woods. "Away!" she thought; "it
cannot be that this strange, unkindly mood can endure; my father loves
his friend in spite of all, and the noble and generous knight could not
hate if he would. They shall not be a week apart when they will both
regret what has passed; and when they meet again, I will laugh them into
a confession that they have done so. Then the two friends will embrace;
and then Guillaume and I will sing, and dance, and read together
again--and then--and then--and then--" It seemed as if her thoughts had
run her out of breath; for at this point of the reverie she paused, and
hung back for a moment, while a sudden blush rose to her very eyes.
Soon, however, she recovered; she threw back her head gaily, and yet
proudly; legends of happy love crowded upon her memory, and minstrel
songs echoed in her ear; she bounded lightly into the wood, and as some