had
seen in the soft and lambent light of her eyes on my first knowing of
her marriage to Gaston Cheverny. Rather was it an excited and
over-sanguine hope that built itself most lovely visions on nothing at
all. She seemed to think it probable that at any moment Gaston might
appear. The least movement startled her. If she were at table and the
door opened suddenly she would half rise, with the flash of
expectation in her face. At night every sound brought her to the
window. She was still under the sweet illusion of youth, that
happiness was her right. I really believe she thought that God, having
given her so much--such love, beauty, youth, health, and wealth--could
not in justice refuse her happiness.

As we traveled on we found the highroads full of equipages: officers'
wives, French and Austrian ladies of rank and many persons of
consideration from such large towns as Brussels and Cologne, to say
nothing of the constant passing to and fro, such as two great armies,
one on each side of the Rhine, required. Francezka was known to many
of these people. The story of her romantic marriage and her loving
quest for her husband had got abroad, and at every stopping place she
received sympathy and wishes for success in her search. I saw that
Francezka took all these polite expressions for gospel truths, and
thought everybody who spoke a word of encouragement to her was
profoundly versed in wisdom.

I had neither the power nor the wish to rob her of this beautiful
illusion. She had by nature a great and glowing imagination, and she
pictured to herself and to me the charm of her return journey with
Gaston. She admitted the possibility that he might be ill and worn,
but then her tenderness would nurse him back to health. It would be
necessary for him to ride in a chaise, perhaps, so she would give
up her horse and ride with him. How exquisite it would be, as they
passed along the swift flowing Rhine, through the purple vineyards,
the radiant mornings, the glorious sunsets, the dreamy purple
twilights--all would be beautiful. But these glowing visions did
not impair Francezka's watchfulness nor lead her to relax one
single effort in her vigilant hunt.

This rosy hope lasted her until we reached Prince Eugene's headquarters
in the Taunus hills. There, one interview with Prince Eugene himself
brought home to Francezka the gray and gloomy outlook before her. It
left her with but one rational basis of hope, that of finding Gasto