It did not occur to Monsieur Antoine or Janille to be surprised at the pleasure which Gilberte derived from reading, or to superintend her choice of books; for Janille could not read, and prudence was not Monsieur Antoine's forte. But the maid's guardian angel was no more heedful of the purity of her thoughts than was Emile. His love enveloped Gilberte with an inviolable respect, and the child's saintlike innocence was a treasure of which he showed himself a more jealous guardian than her father, to whom, as Janille expressed it, good fortune had always come when he was asleep.
How carefully therefore did he turn the leaves of a volume before handing it to her,—whatever its subject,—history, morals, poetry or romance,—lest it should contain some word that might make her blush!
If, in her trustful ignorance, she asked him to procure her some book in which he remembered that there were certain passages that ought not to be put before the eyes of a young virgin, he would reply that he had looked through the collection at Boisguilbault in vain; that it was not there.
A mother could have acted no more wisely under such circumstances than Gilberte's young lover, and in proportion as the father, in his affectionate heedlessness, unwittingly smoothed the way for attempts at corruption, Emile made it his sacred and cherished duty to justify the confidence of those ingenuous hearts.
Emile's opportunities for talking with Gilberte as to what took place between himself and Monsieur de Boisguilbault were very rare and brief, for Janille almost never left them; and when they were with Monsieur Antoine, Gilberte instinctively and from habit clung to her father's side.
However she soon learned that the friendship between young Cardonnet and the old marquis was making great strides, and that it was based upon a remarkable harmony of principles and ideas. But Emile did his best to conceal from her the ill success of his attempts to bring about a reconciliation between the two families: we shall set forth, in due time, the result of his efforts in that direction.
Hoping always to succeed in time, Emile dissembled his frequent rebuffs; and Gilberte, divining the embarrassments and the delicate nature of the mission he had accepted, did not press him in the fear of displaying too great eagerness and persistence.
And then, it should be said that Gilberte gradually became less interested in the success of the enterprise, while Emile, for his part, felt that his resolution became day by day more earnest.
Love absorbs every other thought; and these two young people, by dint of thinking of each other soon had no leisure to think of anything else. Their whole existence became sentiment, that is to say passion, and the hours flew by in the intoxication of being together, or dragged heavily in anticipation of the moment which was to bring them together.
It was a strange thing to Monsieur Cardonnet, who was watching his son closely, and to Emile, who no longer realized what was going on within him, and yet it was entirely natural, inevitable indeed, that the passion which had absorbed our hero's first youth,—that is to say, the desire to acquire knowledge, to understand and take part in general life,—gave place to a gentle slumber of the intellect and to something like forgetfulness of his favorite theories.