He laid aside the splendid trappings of the nobility of the sword to wear the sterner costume of the magistracy.
"I like you better in black," she said.
It was a falsehood, but by that falsehood she comforted her lover for having thrown his dagger to the winds.

The memory of the little schemes employed to deceive her mother, whose severity seemed great, brought back to her the soulful joys of that innocent and mutual and sanctioned love; sometimes a rendezvous beneath the linden, where speech could be freer than before witnesses; sometimes a furtive clasp, or a stolen kiss,--in short, all the naive instalments of a passion that did not pass the bounds of modesty.

Reliving in her vision those delightful days when she seemed to have too much happiness, she fancied that she kissed, in the void, that fine young face with the glowing eyes, that rosy mouth that spoke so well of love.

Yes, she had loved Chaverny, poor apparently; but what treasures had she not discovered in that soul as tender as it was strong! Suddenly her father died.

Chaverny did not succeed him.