he neighbourhood; not
entering any, but stopping at two or three. Pierre afterwards remembered
that she had invariably paused at the nosegays displayed in a certain
window, and studied them long: but, then, she stopped and looked at caps,
hats, fashions, confectionery (all of the humble kind common in that
quarter), so how should he have known that any particular attraction
existed among the flowers? Morin came more regularly than ever to his
aunt's; but Virginie was apparently unconscious that she was the
attraction. She looked healthier and more hopeful than she had done for
months, and her manners to all were gentler and not so reserved. Almost
as if she wished to manifest her gratitude to Madame Babette for her long
continuance of kindness, the necessity for which was nearly ended,
Virginie showed an unusual alacrity in rendering the old woman any little
service in her power, and evidently tried to respond to Monsieur Morin's
civilities, he being Madame Babette's nephew, with a soft graciousness
which must have made one of her principal charms; for all who knew her
speak of the fascination of her manners, so winning and attentive to
others, while yet her opinions, and often her actions, were of so decided
a character. For, as I have said, her beauty was by no means great; yet
every man who came near her seems to have fallen into the sphere of her
influence. Monsieur Morin was deeper than ever in love with her during
these last few days: he was worked up into a state capable of any
sacrifice, either of himself or others, so that he might obtain her at
last. He sat 'devouring her with his eyes' (to use Pierre's expression)
whenever she could not see him; but, if she looked towards him, he looked
to the ground--anywhere--away from her and almost stammered in his
replies if she addressed any question to him.'

"He had been, I should think, ashamed of his extreme agitation on the
Boulevards, for Pierre thought that he absolutely shunned him for these
few succeeding days. He must have believed that he had driven the Norman
(my poor Clement!) off the field, by banishing him from his inn; and
thought that the intercourse between him and Virginie, which he had thus
interrupted, was of so slight and transient a character as to be quenched
by a little difficulty.

"But he appears to have felt that he had made but little way, and he
awkwardly turned to Pierre for help--not yet confessing his love, though;
he only tried