by herself, and will ask her to let the matter remain as it is for
the present."

"Not if it be a trouble, M. Adolphe;" and the proud girl still held
her hands upon her bosom, and still looked towards the mountain.

"You know what I mean, Marie. You can understand how she and the
capitaine are worrying me."

"But tell me, Adolphe, do you love me?"

"You know I love you, only."

"And you will not give me up?"

"I will ask my mother. I will try and make her yield."

Marie could not feel that she received much confidence from her
lover's promise; but still, even that, weak and unsteady as it was,
even that was better than absolute fixed rejection. So she thanked
him, promised him with tears in her eyes that she would always,
always be faithful to him, and then bade him go down to the house.
She would follow, she said, as soon as his passing had ceased to be
observed.

Then she looked at him as though she expected some sign of renewed
love. But no such sign was vouchsafed to her. Now that she thirsted
for the touch of his lip upon her check, it was denied to her. He
did as she bade him; he went down, slowly loitering, by himself; and
in about half an hour she followed him, and unobserved crept to her