"Would not you wish to leave the dull convent of the sisterhood to live in the midst of the gay and the great world,—to live in a barrack, perhaps, and be awakened every morning by the merry reveillé or the bold pibroch, or to—"
He paused, for the last observation had been misunderstood. The eyes of the French girl flashed fire, and her pouting lips curled so haughtily and so prettily, that, yielding only to the impulse of the moment, Ronald was tempted to carry on the war with greater vigour.
"Pardon me, Antoinette; I did not mean to offend you," said Stuart, drawing her nearer to him by the little unresisting hand which he still held captive.
"O monsieur! what do you mean?" cried the poor girl, trembling violently, while a deep blush covered her whole face and neck; her sparkling eyes were cast languidly down, and the palpitations of her heart could be distinctly seen beneath the tight serge vest or boddice which encased her noble bust. "Oh, mon Dieu!" she added, "what is the matter with me? I feel very ill and giddy." Yet she made but feeble struggles to release herself.
"Promise you will come again and see me, Antoinette," said Ronald, drawing her very decidedly on his knee.
"Oh, let me go, monsieur. I must have the honour to wish you a good morning." She made a motion to go, but his arm had encircled her. "My vows! Oh, pray, for the love of Heaven, let me go. Unhand me, I implore you!"
"One kiss, then, Antoinette,—only one kiss; and in sisterly love, you know?" and his lips were pressed to her hot cheek ere she was aware. "But one more, dear Antoinette!" but she burst from his grasp and covered her burning face with her robe, weeping as if her heart would break.
"Holy Virgin, look down upon me!" she exclaimed. "How shall I ever atone for this deadly sin? I must confess it, and to the stern dean of Saint Gudule, that the lips of a man have touched mine. Me! a Sister of Charity, a nun, a miserable woman, sworn and devoted to the service of Heaven! Oh, monsieur, you have done me a great wrong; but may Heaven forgive you as readily as I do! Adieu! we shall never meet again."
Ronald made an attempt to catch her, but nimbly and gracefully as a fawn she eluded his grasp, and fled down stairs like an arrow, leaving the discomfited soldado more charmed than ever with her simplicity and modesty. And it may easily be supposed that the interest she had excited in his bosom was increased when he discovered that, in spite of her vows and veil of lawn, he was not indifferent to the little French nun.
"Still," he reflected, "it is better that we should meet no more. Antoinette is wise: yet I hope she may look up here to-morrow, if it's only to see me for the last time."