We walked twice round the terrace in silence. Then she said, in a tone
of command which proved to me that she had taken possession of my
soul, "It is late; we will part."

I wished to kiss her hand; she hesitated, then gave it to me, and said
in a voice of entreaty: "Never take it unless I give it to you; leave
me my freedom; if not, I shall be simply a thing of yours, and that
ought not to be."

"Adieu," I said.

I went out by the little gate of the lower terrace, which she opened
for me. Just as she was about to close it she opened it again and
offered me her hand, saying: "You have been truly good to me this
evening; you have comforted my whole future; take it, my friend, take
it."

I kissed her hand again and again, and when I raised my eyes I saw the
tears in hers. She returned to the upper terrace and I watched her for
a moment from the meadow. When I was on the road to Frapesle I again
saw her white robe shimmering in a moonbeam; then, a few moments
later, a light was in her bedroom.

"Oh, my Henriette!" I cried, "to you I pledge the purest love that
ever shone upon this earth."

I turned at every step as I regained Frapesle. Ineffable contentment
filled my mind. A way was open for the devotion that swells in all
youthful hearts and which in mine had been so long inert. Like the