"There now, my dear brother," cried Laura, using an epithet which she often employed towards me; "have I not a right to be jealous of you? and, indeed," she added, "I should almost be jealous of your little page, too, who has completely supplanted both my father's other pages in his affection, were I not as fond of the dear boy myself."
Almost as she spoke, Clement himself entered the library, bounding up to my knee with that sort of bold and undismayed step, which showed me clearly upon what very unceremonious terms he had established himself in the family of Monsieur de Villardin. He was greatly changed in his appearance since I had last seen him, though he was still as fine a boy as ever I beheld; and as tall, as strong, and as well proportioned as many boys of eleven or twelve, although he could not be, at that time, so much as nine years old. There was, too, in his whole appearance, an air of graceful ease--a sort of natural dignity--which was extraordinary in one so young; and I felt very sure, from his whole demeanour, that he had been informed by some one, that his rank and station in society was equal to that of those with whom he was called to mix. The time he had spent at the Prés Vallée had certainly not been thrown away; for I soon found that my little page was already a more accomplished scholar than myself; and I easily perceived, from the manner in which he executed all that he had learned of military exercises, that he wanted but habit, discipline, and experience to become eventually one of the best soldiers of the day.
I had always been kind to him during the few months we spent together every year; and, looking upon him but as a younger son of the same adventurous family with myself, I had treated him perhaps as a favourite brother. This had, of course, rendered him fond of me; and his manner towards me was everything that I could desire. There was no want of respect, though it was the respect of affection and esteem; and, though he was frank and bold, telling me at once his thoughts, his opinions, and his wishes, yet it was done with that air of natural confidence and candour that rendered it infinitely pleasing; while, at the same time, he yielded to my wishes or my arguments as if he felt a pleasure in doing what I bade him, and in giving up his mind to my direction. Whether the affection of my mind that he gained upon his side was vanity, self-love, or any more noble feeling, I cannot tell, but certainly he wound himself completely round my heart; though, to say the truth, during the six weeks that I remained at the Prés Vallée, I was very little with him.
Other feelings and other pursuits gradually took possession of me altogether;--feelings which I did not understand, and would not examine,--pursuits, the tendency of which I did not perceive, and the result of which I dared not calculate. From some early prejudice, Monsieur de Villardin had the utmost hatred at the very thought of a gouvernante for his daughter; and though, for the form's sake, he had often declared that he must procure one,--though many of his female relations had reasoned with him upon the subject, and had held up before his eyes all the customs and respects of the world which require such a proceeding,--yet no step had been taken to that effect; and Laura de Villardin, now in her sixteenth year, remained in her father's house with no other female attendants than Lise, her principal maid, and two or three ordinary tiring-women. Masters for all sorts of accomplishments visited her from Rennes every morning; but from two o'clock till the hour of repose, her time was all her own; and it was now divided between her father and myself. The vigour, however, of Monsieur de Villardin was beginning to be impaired; and, though he was still a strong and powerful man for his time of life, yet a degree of inactivity, when no great excitement prompted to exertion, showed that years began to lay as a burden upon him. Thus the walks and rides of Laura de Villardin, before my arrival, had often been taken alone, or only followed, when on horseback, by some servants, or, when on foot, by her attendant Lise. Now, indeed, the matter was changed, and I became her constant companion in the rambles which before might be considered as solitary. It never seemed to strike Monsieur de Villardin that any feeling which might be dangerous to his other views, or to our peace, could spring out of such constant association. Doubtless he thought that, having grown up together from very early years, our feelings would ever remain those of a brother and sister; or, perhaps, he never thought about it at all. No impediment, however, did he ever throw in our way; but, on the contrary, whenever he felt any indisposition himself, he was the first to send me with her on any excursion that she proposed to take, and more than once reminded me that, at a very early age, I had pledged myself to be her protector and defender throughout the years of youth.
Thus it was that, during the six weeks that I now stayed at the Prés Vallée, I was, for at least one half of each day, in the constant society of Laura de Villardin. A considerable portion, indeed, of that time was spent in company with her father; but I may say, no day passed without her being alone with me, either wandering with her arm in mine through the fair scenes round us, or reading together some tale of ancient lore, or sitting at the foot of some tree, and enjoying the beautiful spring for at least two or three hours.
It must not be thought that knowingly and wilfully I took advantage of these opportunities to steal the heart of the young heiress of such broad lands and splendid possessions. I have before said that I did not and would not examine what I was doing, or what was likely to be the result either with herself or me. There was no calculation in the business, no consideration, no forethought. The fascination was too strong for reflection. Her society was delightful to me, as it always had been; and I enjoyed it as I had ever done, without knowing that it could become dangerous. The only thing, I am confident, that even for a moment could have caused a suspicion in either her bosom or mine of what was really passing in our hearts, were the feelings which accompanied our first meetings in the mornings. It had always been her custom--a custom sanctioned by the universal habits of France--after turning from her father's salutation and embrace, to welcome me in the same manner: and whenever we had been in the same dwelling, from our childhood up to that hour, not a day had passed without my lips being pressed upon her cheek, while her fair hand rested in mine, and her sweet voice gave me the good-morrow.
Now, however, I perhaps experienced feelings, at the moment of our morning meeting, which should have told me more. A thrill passed through me as her hand touched mine; my heart beat as our eyes met, and I ought to have felt that the kiss was no longer that of a brother. But it is wonderful how blind people become under such circumstances, and, I say the truth, upon my honour, when I say that I did not know that deep and passionate love was growing up in my heart towards Laura de Villardin. If Monsieur de Villardin calculated at all upon the same feelings which had animated us in infancy remaining still unchanged, he calculated not only most wrongly, but upon false grounds altogether. Such might have been the case had we never been separated; but now,--at the same time that our youthful affection had prepared our hearts to receive gladly every new feeling that bound us to each other--we had been of late years absent from each other for so many months, that each renewal of our intercourse came with the freshness of a new acquaintance, and at length, when I returned after a more prolonged separation still, I found the sweet girl, who was already so dear to me, sprung up into womanhood: I found her the most lovely and engaging creature I had ever beheld, while admiration was heightened and softened by a thousand tender memories, and long habits of endearing intimacy.
Still, we neither of us knew how rapidly love was gaining on our hearts--still, neither of us made the slightest effort to resist his power, or to avoid his influence. Our lonely walks were the sweetest of our lives; and, though we were very frequently accompanied by Lise, who probably divined more of our own feelings than we did ourselves; yet, I must confess that she was the most discreet and friendly of suivantes, and contrived to throw no restraint upon our conversations. What those conversations were heaven knows. They were a whirl of bright things; a mixture of dreams, and thoughts, and feelings, the blendings of passion and imagination, which might altogether form many a page of wild but brilliant nonsense, if I could write down an exact transcript of all that passed.
We were in love with the world, and all that it contained; and, from the bright feelings that had sprung up within us, e very thing around us seemed bright. Our whole sensations were a panegyric upon all that we beheld: the sunshine was gayer than ever sunshine had been before; the trees were greener--the fields more sweet and fresh; for us the breeze was loaded with perfume; for us each flower had some new beauty--some brighter grace. We found it inexhaustible to praise and to admire; for everything around offered us the reflex of that happiness, which had so lately arisen in our own bosoms.
Be it remarked, however, that, amongst all the subjects of conversation which we now enjoyed--and they were as varied as the shapes of summer-clouds--that we never talked of love. We spoke of ancient tales, and bright, unexampled friendship--the arts and graces of Greece--the virtues and the might of Rome. We spoke of modern days--of gallant deeds in the field--of sad and tragic events--of stories of interest and of anecdotes of wit. We spoke of the beauties of nature, and of all the fair varieties of the world's face. We spoke of ourselves, and our interests, and our feelings, and our tastes. We spoke of our many associated memories in the past, and we looked forward to many a hope and pleasure together in the future; but still we never spoke of love. It might be a deep, hidden, eternal, unavowed consciousness, concealed from our own eyes as well as from the rest of the world, that made us avoid--I must call it scrupulously--the most distant approach to that one subject, amongst all the rest of which we spoke. It might be that, by some sort of instinctive perception, we trod lightly, because we found that our feet were upon a volcano.