served to reanimate Graham; and with that hope his heart, as if a load
had been lifted from its mainspring, returned instinctively to the
thought of Isaura. Whatever seemed to promise an early discharge of the
commission connected with the discovery of Louise Duval seemed to bring
Isaura nearer to him, or at least to excuse his yearning desire to see
more of her, to understand her better. Faded into thin air was the vague
jealousy of Gustave Rameau which he had so unreasonably conceived; he
felt as if it were impossible that the man whom the "Ondine of Paris"
claimed as her lover could dare to woo or hope to win an Isaura. He even
forgot the friendship with the eloquent denouncer of the marriage-bond,
which a little while ago had seemed to him an unpardonable offence. He
remembered only the lovely face, so innocent, yet so intelligent; only
the sweet voice, which had for the first time breathed music into his own
soul; only the gentle hand, whose touch had for the first time sent
through his veins the thrill which distinguishes from all her sex the
woman whom we love. He went forth elated and joyous, and took his way to
Isaura's villa. As he went, the leaves on the trees under which he
passed seemed stirred by the soft May breeze in sympathy with his own
delight. Perhaps it was rather the reverse: his own silent delight
sympathized with all delight in awakening Nature. The lover seeking
reconciliation with the loved one from whom some trifle has unreasonably
estranged him, in a cloudless day of May,--if he be not happy enough to
feel a brotherhood in all things happy,--a leaf in bloom, a bird in
song,--then indeed he may call himself lover, but he does not know what
is love.