at was
all she knew. Perhaps it was quite right that it should be so; the woman
giving everything, and the man holding himself back as a stranger. She
had no premature curiosity. She continued to smile at the thought of
things which would certainly be realised. So for her, that of which she
was ignorant counted for nothing. The only important fact in her mind
was the intimacy between them, which united them, little by little,
apart from the world. She knew nothing about him, yet she was so well
acquainted with his nature that she could read his thoughts in a simple
look or smile. He, her hero, had come as she always said he would. She
had at once recognised him, and they loved each other.

So they enjoyed most thoroughly this true possession from a distance.
They were certainly encouraged by the new discoveries they made. She had
long, slender hands, roughened a little at the ends of the fingers by
her constant use of the needle, but he adored them. She noticed that
his feet were small, and was proud of the fact. Everything about him
flattered her; she was grateful to him for being so handsome; and she
was overcome with joy the evening that she found his beard to be of a
lighter shade than his hair, which fact gave a greater softness to his
smile. He went away transported when, one morning, as she leaned over
the balcony, he saw a little red spot on her pretty neck. Their hearts
being thus laid open, new treasures were daily found. Certainly the
proud and frank manner in which she opened her window showed that, even
in her ignorance as a little embroiderer, she had the royal bearing of
a princess. In the same way she knew that he was good, from seeing
how lightly he walked over the herbs and the grass. Around them was a
radiance of virtues and graces from the first hour of their meeting.
Each interview had its special charm. It seemed to them as if their
felicity in seeing each other could never be exhausted.

Nevertheless, Felicien soon showed certain signs of impatience, and he
no longer remained for hours concealed behind a bush in the immobility
of an absolute happiness. As soon as Angelique appeared at her window,
he was restless, and tried to approach her as he glided from willow to
willow. At length she was a little disturbed, fearing that someone might
see him. One day there was almost a quarrel, for he came even to the
wall of the house, so she was obliged to leave the balcony. It was a
great shock to him that