Clara would fain have shrunk into herself, although the society even of a peasant was a relief, after the long hours of solitude which she had lately passed; but good old La Brousse strove to win her into cheerfulness, by all that simple unaffected kindness could effect; and the young stranger, without attempting to assume the air or tone of a lower station than her own, led her onward into conversation in despite of her determination, by a gentle, unobtrusive mingling of respect and tenderness, in which there was nothing to repress or to repel. The conduct of Ninette, indeed, acted as a restraint upon all. She sat gloomy and frowning, biting her pretty lips in silence, while old La Brousse chid her, though not unkindly, for her ill-humour; and the young stranger, unconscious of the feelings he had himself excited, gazed upon her with surprise. Perhaps it was Clara de la Roche alone that saw and understood the real motives of the poor girl's behaviour, She did not, indeed, know that from the first hour that Auguste la Brousse, as the young stranger called himself, had set his foot across the threshold of the farm of Dervais, Ninette had determined that he should be her lover whether he would or not. She did not know that he had treated her from the first with cool indifference; nor that Ninette, in order to attract his admiration, had coquetted herself into a passion for him, which had received no encouragement; but she clearly saw that love was at the bottom of the poor girl's heart, and she felt grieved that her presence should in any way give her a foretaste of the disappointment that she was destined ultimately to undergo. Her own heart, however, was clear. She could not but acknowledge to herself, indeed, that the young stranger was perhaps the handsomest man she had ever yet beheld; that his beauty was not alone the beauty of feature, but the beauty of expression also; that he was graceful in person; and that his conversation had a varied power, which carried attention into admiration, and a tone of noble feeling that gave admiration the basis of esteem. But the heart of Clara de la Roche, though kind, and gentle, and tender, was not one easily to be won. The scenes in which she had mingled--the dangers, the sorrows, the privations which she had undergone--had raised her spirit above all lighter things; and the only qualities that could win her love, were those which had been tried by the fiery ordeal of difficulties and perils. Though she was but nineteen, she had learned to distrust imagination, and rely upon deeds rather than appearance.