Belle-bouche made no reply.
"Ah!" sighed Jacques, "if you would only make that old tradition true—if——"
"Oh!" said Belle-bouche, looking another way, "just listen to that mocking-bird!"
"If love far greater than the love of Corydon—devotion——"
"I could dance a reel to it," said Belle-bouche, blushing; "and we shall have some reels, I hope, at the ball. Oh! I expect a great deal of pleasure."
"And I," said Jacques, sadly, "for I escort you."
"Then you have not forgotten your promise!"
"Forgotten!"
"And you really will take charge of me?" said Belle-bouche, with a delightful expression of doubt.
"Take charge of you?" cried Jacques, overwhelmed and drowned in love; "take charge of you! Oh Belle-bouche! dearest Belle-bouche!—you are killing me! Oh! let me take charge of your life—see Corydon here at your feet, the fondest, most devoted——"