She looked up, saw him, recognised him, and nodded. He raised his hat; then, a strange delicacy of feeling overcoming him, he walked away.
Adèle saw him go and felt stung. Why had he not spoken to her? he might have done so. She had been on the point of advancing towards him, and he seemed to have deliberately avoided her.
"I was not mistaken when I fancied he loved another one," she said to herself. In spite of that, she walked in a contrary direction to him, hoping to meet him, a thing which she could not fail to do if they both kept advancing in contrary directions. She did not stop to think that he would perhaps pass haughtily by her. Love is blind.
Like the two gentlemen who circumnavigated the globe, the two young people met. Frank inquired after Mr. Rougeant's health, and made a few remarks about the exhibition. He always expected to see her intended appear on the scene. Finally, he ventured to ask: "Are you quite alone?" "Yes, quite," she answered.
They walked together for fully one hour, examining the flowers and fruit. "Is not this a beautiful specimen of the Dahlia?" Adèle asked, pointing to a flower of that name.
"I am afraid I do not possess the necessary qualifications to form an opinion," he said; "I have not studied botany."
"I think you would find the study very captivating," she said; "our little island contains quite a number of beautiful specimens. There are a great many hard names to learn, but I feel certain that you would soon overcome that difficulty."
"You have a rather high opinion of my intellectual powers," he said; "I feel quite flattered. For the present, I will abide by your decisions. The flowers that you will praise, I shall call beautiful; those that you will condemn, I shall call ugly."
"I shall not condemn any," said she, "all flowers are beautiful to my eyes, only some are more perfect than others."
"You love flowers?" he questioned.