Gradually this mildness charmed him. He had never seen anything equal to this supposed resignation. He saw in it a hidden modesty, a hopelessness of pleasing, a tender submission, which deeply touched him. "She is good above all others," he said to himself again,—"good as an angel. One could be very happy with that woman, she would be so grateful and so little disposed to quarrel. Truly she does not know what it is to cause suffering; she keeps it all for herself."
By dint of waiting for his prey, the Duke found himself fascinated, and the feeling grew upon him. He was forced to acknowledge that he was ill at ease in her presence, and that his own cruelty troubled him a great deal. At the end of a month he began to lose patience, and to say to himself that he must hasten the catastrophe; but that all at once appeared to him extremely difficult. Caroline yet had too much virtue in his eyes, to permit him to forfeit his word, for in being abrupt he might lose everything.
Entering his mother's apartment one day, the Duke said, "I have just been greatly amusing myself riding one of your farm colts. He resembles a wild boar and a trotting errand-boy at the same time. He has fire and speed, and is very gentle besides. Mlle de Saint-Geneix might ride him if she happens to be fond of the exercise."
"I am very fond of it," she replied. "My father required it of me, and I was not grieved to satisfy him in that regard."
"Then I will wager you are an excellent rider?"
"No, I can sit upright and have a nimble hand, like all women."
"Like all women who ride well, for generally women are nervous and would like to lead men and horses after the same fashion; but that is not your character."
"As far as men are concerned, I know nothing at all about it. I have never attempted to lead any one."
"O, you will attempt that, too, some day?"
"It is not probable."