But that, Wilfrid, is only a woman's thought.

You find seductive fancies in the wreathing mists, the light embroidered veils which Nature dons like a coy maiden, in this atmosphere where she perfumes for her spousals the greenery of her tresses.

You seek the naiad's form amid the gauzy vapors, and to your thinking my ears should listen only to the virile voice of the Torrent." "But Love is there, like the bee in the calyx of the flower," replied Wilfrid, perceiving for the first time a trace of earthly sentiment in her words, and fancying the moment favorable for an expression of his passionate tenderness.
"Always there ?" said Seraphita, smiling.

Minna had left them for a moment to gather the blue saxifrages growing on a rock above.
"Always," repeated Wilfrid.

"Hear me," he said, with a masterful glance which was foiled as by a diamond breast-plate.