ABSTRACT
There was no human being with whom Montmorency himself associated, or permitted his daughter, save the female inhabitant of a cottage, situated a little way down the rock on which his own was built. This female, though amiable, and by no means arrived at an age when the pleasures, if any, of life have with some lost their zest, lived in almost total seclusion, justly considering herself superior to the many that courted her society, among whom were not wanting certain independent Mountaineers, who boasting of their bit of cultured ground, their flock of sheep, and their cows, as the great ones of the world boast of their gold, did not think they presumed too highly in soliciting her hand. But the good Madame Bertrand had no desire to change her present freedom for the controul of a husband; neither did her experience in a married life render her wishful to enter again that state. She, therefore, mildly declined all overtures, and resisted even the earnest entreaties of Pierre Boffuet, the most ardent and persevering of her admirers, to regard his suit with more complacency than those of his contemporaries. This worthy female, the steadiness and rationality of whose character operated in her favour with Montmorency, was occasionally a guest at his cottage; but soon discovering his fondness for solitude, and almost hatred of society, her visits were sparing, and never long. During the stay of Angelo there, she had appeared but once; since his departure, however, she had been frequently, because her observation easily informed her, that some secret grief lay heavy at the heart of Gabrielle, and her penetration led her to fear that the departed guest was not unconnected with it. Often in her walks with the silent and wretched girl did she long, with the kind solicitude of friendship, to hint at her apparent unhappiness, in order, if possible, to invite her confidence, not from an idle or unworthy curiosity, but in hopes that she might be enabled to administer some consolation.
