During the remainder of the winter, I did not find more than one opportunity of speaking to her alone.

As I was a permanent fixture every evening in her aunt's parlors, she entered them only when other guests were there.

She never went out alone, and in every place where I was likely to meet her I was sure to find a triple rampart of women erected between us, through which it was impossible to address one word to her.
In short, I was encountering a desperate resistance; and, yet, she loved me! I could see her cheeks gradually grow pale; her brilliant eyes often had dark rings beneath them, as if sleep had deserted her.

Sometimes, when she thought she was not observed, I surprised them fastened upon me; but she immediately turned them away.
"She had been coquettish and indifferent; she was now loving but virtuous.
"Spring came.

One afternoon I went to call upon Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, who had been ill for several days.