There was another safeguard, too, to her heart. Her hand, she knew, had been promised by her father to the son of an old and dear friend; and although she had never yet met him to whom she was destined--though the death of her father and brother left her free from all such engagements--yet a touch of the same enthusiasm which inspired the loyalty of her house, mingled with her veneration for her father's memory, and made her set a watch upon her own feelings, lest she should ever be tempted to violate the promise that he had given. The evening passed, however; and at length, Clara again retired to her place of concealment. Sleep came not near her pillow for many hours; for the pain that her presence was inflicting upon Ninette, grieved her deeply, and she revolved in her own mind the idea of quitting the asylum she had found, and once more seeking an abode where her sojourn might occasion no uneasiness, except such as was absolutely inseparable from her situation. We will not say, indeed, that when she looked into her own heart, she might not there find some feelings that confirmed her in such a purpose. She did not love the young stranger, it is true; for she was one of those who had been taught early to avoid the first seeds of any thing that we do not wish to cultivate. But she would not but acknowledge that he was amiable, interesting, graceful, and handsome; and he was, moreover, the only one so gifted that she was likely to behold, if she remained where she was. She determined then, ere long, to make her way, if possible, to the house of some relations in the neighbourhood of Rennes. CHAPTER III. While Clara was in this state of uncertainty, she remained in all the watchfulness of doubt; but when her resolution was once formed, she fell into a profound sleep, from which she did not wake till late upon the subsequent morning. The sun had been up for several hours, and the small room, to the precincts of which she was confined, was close and oppressive; and after listening for a few moments at the partition, to ensure that no strangers were in the farm, she knocked gently, to call the attention of Ninette. No one answered; but on listening again, she plainly heard the young _paysanne_ bustling about her usual occupations in the kitchen, and she once more endeavoured to make herself heard. Still no reply was returned, and concluding that some danger existed, of which she was not aware, she desisted, and merely opened a small window, consisting of a single pane of glass, which, concealed amongst the masonry, served to give a portion of air and light to the apartment itself, without being discernible from the courtyard into which it looked.