"Pierre," said she, "it is time we rejoin our companions; they will
remark our absence. We will go."
But she still sat there, and made no effort to go. A gossamer
thread could have held her there forever, and how could she put
aside the strong arm that was mightier than her own will?
Pierre spoke now; the feelings so long pent up burst forth in a
torrent that swept away every bond of restraint but that of love's
own laws.
He placed his hand tenderly on her cheek, and turned her glowing
face full towards him. Still she dared not look up. She knew well
what he was going to say. She might control her words, but not her
tell-tale eyes. She felt a wild joy flashing and leaping in her
bosom, which no art could conceal, should she look up at this moment
in the face of Pierre Philibert.
"Amelie," said he, after a pause, "turn those dear eyes, and see and
believe in the truth of mine! No words can express how much I do
love you!"
She gave a start of joy,--not of surprise, for she knew he loved
her. But the avowal of Pierre Philibert's love lifted at once the
veil from her own feelings.
Pages:
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590