The report of what was said by so many whispering friends was
quickly carried to the ear of Amelie by some of her light-hearted
companions. She blushed at the accusation, and gently denied all
knowledge of it, laughing as a woman will laugh who carries a hidden
joy or a hidden sorrow in her heart, neither of which she cares to
reveal to the world's eye. Amelie listened to the pleasant tale
with secret complaisance, for, despite her tremor and confusion, it
was pleasant to hear that Pierre Philibert loved her, and was
considered a suitor for her hand. It was sweet to know that the
world believed she was his choice.
She threaded every one of these precious words, like a chaplet of
pearls upon the strings of her heart,--contemplating them, counting
them over and over in secret, with a joy known only to herself and
to God, whom she prayed to guide her right whatever might happen.
That something would happen ere long she felt a premonition, which
at times made her grave in the midst of her hopes and anticipations.
The days passed gaily at Tilly.
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