she feared lest it should burst with the
throbbing of her joy.

I placed my lips to the long golden lashes, I gathered the dear,
timorous tears that seemed still uncertain which path to take; and,
behind the veil of my kisses, they gushed forth without fear or shame.

5

The setting sun was no more than a thin crimson streak on the dividing
line of sky and sea; and the peaceful billows whispered mysteriously in
the dusk that rose from every side.

It was time to go. When we were both standing, so frail and
insignificant on the great empty beach, a wave of passionate gratitude
overwhelmed both our hearts; and I at last believed that all nature--the
sea, the meadows and the fields--had wrought its work of love and beauty
in my Rose.

CHAPTER XIV

1

Immense black clouds scudded past in the darkness; a furious wind
stripped the groaning branches of their leaves; and, when the moon
suddenly pierced the night, gaunt figures appeared of almost bare trees
twisted and shaken by the wind. Behind the orchards, a few
cottage-windows showed a glimmer of light; and the watch-dogs howled as
I passed, to the accompaniment of their dragging chains.

I walked quickly, full of misgivings and yet undaunted. I asked myself
at intervals what was taking me to the farm, to probable suffering. Was
it Rose's silence: I had heard nothing of her for a week? Was it the
hope of saying good-bye to her, of letting her know at least that I was
to go away the next day? Or was it not rather the curiosity that makes
us wish to see, without being seen ourselves, the man or woman who
interests us?

We always influence in some way or other the looks or the words that are
addressed to us. The eye that rests on us becomes unconsciously filled
with our own rest; and the longing that awakens at the sight of us is
often born of the unspoken call of our soul or our blood. From the first
moment when our hands meet, an exchange takes place, and we are no
longer entirely ourselves, we exist in relation to the persons and the
things around us. Two honest lives cannot join in falsehood; but either
of them, if united to a vulgar nature, is perhaps capable of
deterioration.

While thus arguing, I seek to reassure myself. True, Rose could never be
at the farm, among those coarse people, what she is with me. Still, what
will she be like?

I remember something she said to me at the beginning of our
acquaintance:

"For the sake of peace with thos