do anything you desire."



CHAPTER XII

"No, never in my whole life have I met a woman who can compare with this
Marie-Anne! What grace and what dignity! Ah! her beauty is divine!"

So Martial was thinking while returning to Sairmeuse after his proposals
to M. Lacheneur.

At the risk of losing his way he took the shortest course, which led
across the fields and over ditches, which he leaped with the aid of his
gun.

He found a pleasure, entirely novel and very delightful, in picturing
Marie-Anne as he had just seen her, blushing and paling, about to swoon,
then lifting her head haughtily in her pride and disdain.

Who would have suspected that such indomitable energy and such an
impassioned soul was hidden beneath such girlish artlessness and
apparent coldness? What an adorable expression illumined her face, what
passion shone in those great black eyes when she looked at that little
fool d'Escorval! What would not one give to be regarded thus, even for a
moment? How could the boy help being crazy about her?

He himself loved her, without being, as yet, willing, to confess it.
What other name could be given to this passion which had overpowered
reason, and to the furious desires which agitated him?