"
"Oh, be quite easy. That sort of discussion is pointless in these
days. As for me, it does not affect me. I am beside the question."
Ambitious as the answer might seem, it filled Mademoiselle de Fontaine
with the deepest joy; for, like all infatuated people, she explained
it, as oracles are explained, in the sense that harmonized with her
wishes; she began dancing again in higher spirits than ever, as she
watched Longueville, whose figure and grace almost surpassed those of
her imaginary ideal. She felt added satisfaction in believing him to
be well born, her black eyes sparkled, and she danced with all the
pleasure that comes of dancing in the presence of the being we love.
The couple had never understood each other as well as at this moment;
more than once they felt their finger tips thrill and tremble as they
were married in the figures of the dance.
The early autumn had come to the handsome pair, in the midst of
country festivities and pleasures; they had abandoned themselves
softly to the tide of the sweetest sentiment in life, strengthening it
by a thousand little incidents which any one can imagine; for love is
in some respects always the same. They studied each other through it
all, as much as lovers can.
"Well, well; a flirtation never turned so quickly into a love match,"
said the old uncle, who kept an eye on the two young people as a
naturalist watches an insect in the microscope.
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