His face, his tones, the air of refinement and intelligence that was about him, all conspired to win her young affections.

But of the true nature of her feelings, Nina was as yet ignorant.

She did not think of love.
She did not, therefore, hesitate as to the propriety of continuing her visits at the cottage of Blanche Delebarre, nor did she feel any reserve in the presence of Pierre.

Not until the enamored youth presumed to whisper the passion her presence had awakened in his bosom, did she fully understand the cause of the delight she always felt while by his side.
After Pierre had been home a few weeks, he ventured to explain to his mother the cause of his unexpected and unannounced return.

He had disagreed with his uncle, who, in a passion, had reminded him of his dependence.