"What! you remember me? And you, sweet girl, have not been out of my thoughts for one moment. How could I fail to be impressed by the sight of such lovely features and such charms of person and of manner?" The girl listened in surprise; all that he said was entirely strange to her ears. He sat down on the turf, a few feet away from her. This action seemed to surprise her still more; she looked at him again, with something like alarm, but the sentiment expressed in his eyes soon set her heart at rest. She looked at the ground, but it was easy to read on her ingenuous features that she was waiting curiously for him to speak again. "When I saw you yesterday, I felt the deepest interest in you. But how that interest has grown since I learned---- Poor child! Ah! I know of your sad plight! I know all the misfortunes that have been heaped upon you." The dumb girl's features became more expressive than ever; a heartrending memory seemed to agitate her. She groaned, raised her eyes to heaven, then turned them on the ground once more as a flood of tears poured from them. Frédéric went to her side; he put one arm lightly about her, and took her hand, which he placed upon his heart. "I have revived your grief," he said; "pray forgive me. Would to heaven that I could, on the contrary, help you to forget it by making you happy! Poor child! let me wipe away your tears. From this moment, you are no longer alone on earth; you have a friend, there is a heart that beats in answer to yours, a heart that will beat for you alone, so long as it lives. Anne, dear friend, give me leave to love you, to share your grief, your suffering, to think constantly of you, to see you every day--oh! do not deny me this favor, or I shall be much unhappier than you are!" Frédéric spoke with great animation; love excited him and made his voice sweeter than ever, his glance more seductive. The dumb girl listened to him at first with surprise; an unfamiliar sentiment disturbed her; she tried to withdraw her hand, but she had not the strength. Frédéric had ceased to speak, and she continued to listen. But soon the remembrance of her condition, of her misfortune, destroyed the spell that was upon her. She looked at Frédéric with a melancholy expression, and, with a much bitterer glance at herself, withdrew her hand and pushed him away, shaking her head as if to say: "No, you cannot love me; I am too unfortunate." Frédéric understood her; he put her hand to his heart again, and said, pointing to the cabin: "With you, I should be happy living here in these woods." At that moment, they heard the sound of a little bell. It was a signal which notified Anne that old Marguerite had risen. She hastily called her goats together and prepared to return to the cabin. "Will you come back?" asked Frédéric; "oh! do let me see you again to-day!" She pointed to the sun, whose beams were just beginning to shine through the foliage, then rested her head on the back of her hand.