to allow her eyes the strictly necessary space for looking over at Savinien’s house, she perceived her lover’s face above the opposite window-fastening. When one thinks of the immense service windows render to lovers, it seems natural enough that they should be made an object for taxation. After having thus protested against her godfather’s hardness of heart, Ursule lowered the curtains and opened her windows to shut the outer blinds through which she could in future see without being seen. She went up to her room at least seven or eight times during the day and always found the young viscount writing, tearing up paper and beginning to write again, doubtless to her!
The next morning, upon waking Ursule, La Bougival brought her the following letter:
“MADEMOISELLE,
“I do not delude myself at all as to the mistrust a young man must inspire who has placed himself in the position from which I escaped only through your guardian’s intervention; in future I must offer more security than anyone else; therefore, mademoiselle, it is with the deepest humility that I throw myself at your feet to confess my love to you. This declaration is not prompted by passion; it springs from a certainty that embraces the whole life. A foolish passion for my young aunt, Madame de Kergarouët, threw me into prison; in the complete disappearance of my memories, and of this image which has been obliterated by yours, will you not see a mark of sincere love? From the moment I saw you asleep, and so graceful in your childish slumber, at Bouron, you have occupied my mind like a queen who takes possession of her
