e restlessness and the errors of adolescence.

The two children were equally timid and artless, and equally infatuated
with each other.

Long walks in the twilight under the eyes of their parents, a glance
that revealed their delight at meeting each other, flowers exchanged
between them--which were religiously preserved--such were their simple
pleasures.

But that magical and sublime word, love--so sweet to utter, and so sweet
to hear--had never once dropped from their lips.

The audacity of Maurice had never gone beyond a furtive pressure of the
hand.

The parents could not be ignorant of this mutual affection; and if they
pretended to shut their eyes, it was only because it did not displease
them nor disturb their plans.

M. and Mme. d'Escorval saw no objection to their son's marriage with a
young girl whose nobility of character they appreciated, and who was as
beautiful as she was good. That she was the richest heiress in all the
country round about was naturally no objection.

So far as M. Lacheneur was concerned, he was delighted at the prospect
of a marriage which would ally him, a former ploughboy, with an old
family whose head was universally respected.

So, although no direct allusion to the subject had ever escaped the lips
of the baron or of M. Lacheneur, there was a tacit agreement between the
two families.

Yes, the marriage was considered a foregone conclusion.

And yet this impetuous and unexpected declaration by Maurice struck
everyone dumb.

In spite of his agitation, the young man perceived the effect produced
by his words, and frightened by his own boldness, he turned and looked
questioningly at his father.

The baron's face was grave, even sad; but his attitude expressed no
displeasure.

This gave renewed courage to the anxious lover.

"You will excuse me, Monsieur," he said, addressing Lacheneur, "for
presenting my request in such a manner, and at such a time. But surely,
when fate glowers ominously upon you, that is the time when your friends
should declare themselves--and deem themselves fortunate if their
devotion can make you forget the infamous treatment to which you have
been subjected."

As he spoke, he was watching Marie-Anne.

Blushing and embarrassed, she turned away her head, perhaps to conceal
the tears which inundated her face--tears of joy and of gratitude.

The love of the man she adored came forth victorious from a test which
it would not be prudent for many h