The lovely girl threw her arms about her lover's neck, kissed him, did a thousand foolish things; her every gesture was eloquent of her happiness. He would not leave her any more; therefore she would be happy every minute. The poor child believed that it was possible. Suddenly, as if struck by a new idea, she led Frédéric to the cabin and pointed to a window; it was in the room where old Marguerite slept, and close beside it was another window, in the dumb girl's room; she led Frédéric there, laid her head on the back of her hand, drew him to her, and gazed passionately into his face. The young man understood her; he pressed her to his heart, and cried: "Yes, I will sleep with you, always by your side! Ah! how happy we shall be!" Thus did the child of nature soon discover what would forward her love; for to love ardently requires neither art nor study; the heart is the best master. Several times, Sister Anne manifested a wish to present Frédéric to her adopted mother; she could not understand why he avoided her, until he said: "Marguerite would not leave you so entirely at liberty, if she knew that you saw me every day; on the contrary, she would tell you that you must avoid me and not speak to me." These words were enough to prevent Anne from returning to the subject. Forbid her to see Frédéric! order her to avoid him! why, that would be condemning her to weep all her life. She felt that she would not have the strength to obey; so it was much better to conceal her happiness from Marguerite. The good old woman was growing weaker every day; she rarely left her chair, where she dozed a great part of the time; so that it was very easy to conceal the truth from her. The night succeeded that day on which Frédéric had won the sweetest of all triumphs and had known the intoxication of a genuine passion. But the approach of darkness did not drive him forth from the woods; on the contrary, it was to increase his happiness tenfold. He did not give a thought to his companions, to their anxiety about him, or to their embarrassing position since he had all the money; he did not remember that he had a horse belonging to the inn; he had no thought for anything on earth but Sister Anne. Not even the memory of his father interfered to mar his happiness. The present was all in all to him; Sister Anne engrossed his heart and mind; he had never known a woman who could be compared with her. Could he find elsewhere in the world so much beauty, grace, innocence, and love? Her misfortune made her even dearer to him. Frédéric was very romantic, and he did not look upon love so lightly as most young men of his years; so that his conduct should appear less extraordinary to us. And then, too, the dumb girl was so pretty! In the first transports of love, a cabin, a forest, a desert, is what all lovers desire; but this intoxication is of short duration. Will Frédéric be more constant?