discuss. I know not what has happened to me to-day. I make nothing
but blunders and mistakes. Forgive my presumption, lady. I will
hazard such forward inquiries no more."

He was silent. Rosabella was silent also.

But though they could forbid their lips to betray their hidden
affection; though Rosabella said not--"Thou art he on whom this
flower shall be bestowed:" though Flodoardo's words had not
expressed--"Rosabella, give me that violet, and that which it
implies"--oh, their eyes were far from being silent. Those
treacherous interpreters of secret feelings acknowledged more to
each other than their hearts had yet acknowledged to themselves.

Flodoardo and Rosabella gazed on each other with looks which made
all speech unnecessary. Sweet, tender, and enthusiastic was the
smile which played around Rosabella's lips when her eyes met those
of the youth whom she had selected from the rest of mankind; and
with mingled emotions of hope and fear did the youth study the
meaning of that smile. He understood it, and his heart beat louder,
and his eye flamed brighter.

Rosabella trembled; her eyes could no longer sustain the fire of his
glances, and a modest blush overspread her face and bosom.

"Rosabella!" at length murmured Flodoardo, unconsciously;
"Flodoardo!" sighed Rosabella, in the same tone.

"Give me that violet!" he exclaimed, eagerly, then sank at her feet,
and in a tone of the most humble supplication repeated, "Oh, give it