A note at the bottom of the verses explained that the French word _si belle_ meant _so beautiful_. The poetry was that of a young man of twenty; but a simple maiden of sixteen, who was herself the subject of the lines, saw more beauty in them, than a critic could find in the best inspirations of Shakespeare or Milton. And then to think that a gentleman, who understood _French_, should write verses to _her_! It was wonderful! She would as soon have dreamed of wearing the crown of England. The next time she met Edward Vernon, her cheeks were flushed _more_ deeply than “ocean’s rosy shell.” But she never alluded to the book or the verses; for she said to herself, “Perhaps he did’nt send them; and then I should feel so ashamed of _supposing_ he did!” The secret was half betrayed on his part; whether intentionally or unintentionally, she did not know. He began by calling her Miss Flower; then he called her Sibella; but ever after the reception of the verses, he said Sibelle. They were so reserved toward each other, and Mrs. Barton’s children were apparently so much the objects of his attention, during their rambles, that their dreamy romance might have gone on uninterrupted for months longer, had not a human foot stepped within their fairy circle. Lord Smallsoul, as he rode abroad one day, was attracted by “the flower _si belle_.” As his grosser nature and more selfish habits were uncurbed by the respectful diffidence, which restrained Edward’s love, he became bold and importunate in his attentions; as if he took it for granted that any rural beauty could be purchased with a nobleman’s gold. The poor girl could not stir out of doors, without being liable to his unwelcome intrusion; the more unwelcome because the presence of the false lover expelled the true one. Edward kept carefully aloof, watching the proceedings of the profligate nobleman with jealous indignation. He painfully felt that he had no right to assume guardianship over the young girl, and that any attempt to do so would bring him into collision with her persecutor; likely to end in publicity by no means favourable to her reputation. The rural belle was inexperienced in the world’s ways, but she had been trained by a prudent mother, and warned against the very dangers that now beset her path. Therefore, with many blushes, she begged Mrs. Barton to excuse her from walking out with the children; confessing that Lord Smallsoul sought every opportunity of urging her to go and live with him in Italy, though she never would accept one of the many rich presents he was always offering her. Mrs. Barton warmly commended her, and promised protection. After some conversation, she said, “The children tell me that Mr. Vernon has often joined you in your walks. Did _he_ ever say he was in love with you?” Sibella promptly replied, “Never. He is always very respectful.” “And he has never made you any presents, has he?” inquired the lady. The maiden lowered her eyes and blushed deeply.