that pensive tranquillity which she had begun to enjoy, her
spirits were ruffled again as with a tempest: at last, not being
able to stay at home, she went abroad to take the air in a garden
without the suburbs, where she hoped to be alone; she walked
about a great while, and found no likelihood of anyone's being
there.

Having crossed a little wilderness she perceived at the end of
the walk, in the most remote part of the garden, a kind of a
bower, open on all sides, and went towards it; when she was near,
she saw a man lying on the benches, who seemed sunk into a deep
contemplation, and she discovered it was the Duke de Nemours.
Upon this she stopped short: but her attendants made some noise,
which roused the Duke out of his musing: he took no notice who
the persons were that disturbed him, but got up in order to avoid
the company that was coming towards him, and making a low bow,
which hindered him from seeing those he saluted, he turned into
another walk.

If he had known whom he avoided, with what eagerness would he
have returned? But he walked down the alley, and Madam de Cleves
saw him go out at a back door, where his coach waited for him.
What an effect did this transient view produce in the heart of
Madam de Cleves? What a flame rekindled out of the embers of her
love, and with what violence did it burn? She went and sat down
in the same place from which Monsieur de Nemours was newly risen,
and seemed perfectly overwhelmed; his image immediately possessed
her fancy, and she considered him as the most amiable person in
the world, as one who had long loved her with a passion full of
veneration and sincerity, slighting all for her, paying respect