There was no cause for shame in it; but her heart was suddenly
illuminated by a flash of introspection. She became painfully
conscious how much Pierre Philibert had occupied her thoughts for
years, and now all at once she knew he was a man, and a great and
noble one. She was thoroughly perplexed and half angry. She
questioned herself sharply, as if running thorns into her flesh, to
inquire whether she had failed in the least point of maidenly
modesty and reserve in thinking so much of him; and the more she
questioned herself, the more agitated she grew under her self-
accusation: her temples throbbed violently; she hardly dared lift
her eyes from the ground lest some one, even a stranger, she
thought, might see her confusion and read its cause. "Sancta
Maria," she murmured, pressing her bosom with both hands, "calm my
soul with thy divine peace, for I know not what to do!"

So she sat alone in the embrasure, living a life of emotion in a few
minutes; nor did she find any calm for her agitated spirits until
the thought flashed upon her that she was distressing herself
needlessly. It was most improbable that Colonel Philibert, after
years of absence and active life in the world's great affairs, could
retain any recollection of the schoolgirl of the Manor House of
Tilly. She might meet him, nay, was certain to do so in the society
in which both moved; but it would surely be as a stranger on his
part, and she must make it so on her own.

With this empty piece of casuistry, Amelie, like others of her sex,
placed a hand of steel, encased in a silken glove, upon her heart,
and tyrannically suppressed its yearnings. She was a victim, with
the outward show of conquest over her feelings. In the consciousness