itself, and the magnetic
propulsions which give to the eyes an infinitude of shades; the
promptings to suicide caused by a word, dispelled by an intonation;
trembling glances which veil an inward daring; sudden desires to speak
and act that are paralyzed by their own violence; the secret eloquence
of common phrases spoken in a quivering voice; the mysterious workings
of that pristine modesty of soul and that divine discernment which
lead to hidden generosities, and give so exquisite a flavor to silent
devotion; in short, all the loveliness of young love, and the weaknesses
of its power.

Mademoiselle Josephine de Temninck was coquettish from nobility of soul.
The sense of her obvious imperfections made her as difficult to win as
the handsomest of women. The fear of some day displeasing the eye roused
her pride, destroyed her trustfulness, and gave her the courage to hide
in the depths of her heart that dawning happiness which other women
delight in making known by their manners,--wearing it proudly, like a
coronet. The more love urged her towards Balthazar, the less she dared
to express her feelings. The glance, the gesture, the question and
answer as it were of a pretty woman, so flattering to the man she loves,
would they not be in her case mere humiliating speculation? A beautiful
woman can be her natural self,--the world overlooks her little follies
or her clumsiness; whereas a single criticising glance checks the
noblest expression on the lips of an ugly woman, adds to the ill-grace
of her gesture, gives timidity to her eyes and awkwardness to her whole
bearing. She knows too well that to her alone the world condones no
faults; she is denied the right to repair them; indeed, the chance to do
so is never given. This necessity of being perfect and on her guard at
every moment, must surely chill her faculties and numb their exercise?
Such a woman can exist only in an atmosphere of angelic forbearance.
Where are the hearts from which forbearance comes with no alloy of
bitter and stinging pity.

These thoughts, to which the codes of social life had accustomed her,
and the sort of consideration more wounding than insult shown to her by
the world,--a consideration which increases a misfortune by making it
apparent,--oppressed Mademoiselle de Temninck with a constant sense of
embarrassment, which drove back into her soul its happiest expression,
and chilled and stiffened her attitudes, her speech, her looks. Loving
and