But in her heart of jealousy and doubt she knew well all her artifices could avail no longer than her youth. In marriage alone was peace and security. The daring of the thought frightened her. She knew it to be beyond her lot, nor in her devotion to Barabant would she have it so, but each day the dream returned, as from a pit one sees a star, or from a wreck the beacon on the forbidden shore.
Barabant found her lost in reverie, the leaves again unnoticed on her shoulders.
"The effect is pretty," he said, smiling down at her.
"On whom the leaves fall and rest, the earth will fall before the year is out," Nicole said. "That's the superstition."
"Nicole, I forbid you to say such things," he cried sharply. "They hurt me, and you know it!"
Satisfied with this evidence of his affection, she sprang up, brushing away the leaves, and saying with a smile:
"There, they have no power now."
"You are early."
"Yes; I was a little melancholy; I wanted to reflect. The gardens are delightful for that."
"I do not find them so."