Emmanuel, like Marguerite, felt the influence of the chords which, from the time of their first meeting had gathered ominously about their heads, hiding from their eyes the blue skies of love.

His feeling for the Elect of his heart was an idolatry which the total absence of hope rendered gentle and mysterious in its manifestations.

Socially too far removed from Mademoiselle Claes by his want of fortune, with nothing but a noble name to offer her, he saw no chance of ever being her husband.
Yet he had always hoped for certain encouragements which Marguerite refused to give before the failing eyes of her dying mother.

Both equally pure, they had never said to one another a word of love.

Their joys were solitary joys tasted by each alone.