"So you are not afraid of ultimate success; you think she loves you?"
"No, but I think she is fascinated, mesmerized, what you will, by me, which answers the same purpose; what I have to do is to hasten matters, and that is what I mean to do. I think she has gone to the 'Source' for one of her eccentric, solitary rambles. An revoir, ma bonne Tante!" and the young man sprang from the cabin with an energy which I had never before noticed in him. Soon after, Madame gathered up her work apparently, and I heard no more. My toilet finished I also took my departure, and thoughtfully turned my steps toward the hotel.
On my way I met Miss Fanny just returning from her walk; evidently M. Louis had missed her. Ascertaining that she was not tired, I begged her to accompany me to a particularly pretty spot on the hill, from which the village was seen to advantage; on the way the conversation was desultory, though I tried gradually to lead it to the subject I meant soon to attack. Once seated under the trees, I changed my tone, and looking at her earnestly, said:
"Miss Fanny, will you pardon me if the interest I feel in you, as a countrywoman, and as a guileless girl, leads me to speak plainly to you? Remember that I am more than twice your age; come, have I permission to make myself disagreeable?"
"I do not understand you"—and she looked up startled; then, perhaps reading a part of my thoughts in my face, she said with a blush, "Yes, you may speak."
I then, as gently as possible, told her what I had observed, and dwelt on the young man's unsound religions principles, on his want of sympathy for others, etc., and finally related the conversation I had just heard, softening some parts, but giving a detailed account of others. She bent her head, and seemed considerably moved.
"And now, my child," I continued, "give me the satisfaction of feeling that I have done right, that you are glad to know this, that your heart is not as yet so engaged in this affair as to bring you any real unhappiness; if I thought I had unwittingly wounded any deep and honest sentiment of yours, if I thought you felt for this young man that sort of love which hallows its object, and often purifies it from evil, I could not easily forgive myself."
"You need not fear, my good friend; I thank you for your interest in me," and she extended her hand, smiling faintly through her tears. "I have done wrong I know, but this is how it happened: at first, ennuyed by the quietness of this place, which seemed so dull after Newport, I commenced a sort of flirtation with this M. Louis d'Agri, merely because I craved excitement."
"Precisely; in other words you are an example of our as yet imperfect system of education. In France young girls are kept in severe restraint, from which they rebound after marriage, often causing much misery; ours is the other extreme—there is an almost unlimited degree of liberty among our young people, which is so far good that it creates a feeling of chivalric honor among the men, and of self-sustaining strength among the women; but at the same time this freedom creates also a longing for excitement, a [{414}] fear of ennui, which finds vent in an immense amount of flirting, generally innocent enough, but which becomes a part of the character of almost every young person, especially every young girl—is it not so?"
"Perhaps it is; at all events the peculiar character of this young man soon interested me; I felt piqued at his indolent, indifferent manner, and continued the flirtation; gradually, as I came to know him better, he acquired over me, I scarcely know how, a sort of influence from which I could not rid myself; but never once did I mistake the feeling which prompted me to crave his society, for love."