- She had feared at first, she added, that it would have
plunder'd her poor girl of what little understanding was left; -
but, on the contrary, it had brought her more to herself: - still,
she could not rest. - Her poor daughter, she said, crying, was
wandering somewhere about the road.
Why does my pulse beat languid as I write this? and what made La
Fleur, whose heart seem'd only to be tuned to joy, to pass the back
of his hand twice across his eyes, as the woman stood and told it?
I beckoned to the postilion to turn back into the road.
When we had got within half a league of Moulines, at a little
opening in the road leading to a thicket, I discovered poor Maria
sitting under a poplar. She was sitting with her elbow in her lap,
and her head leaning on one side within her hand: - a small brook
ran at the foot of the tree.
I bid the postilion go on with the chaise to Moulines - and La Fleur
to bespeak my supper; - and that I would walk after him.
She was dress'd in white, and much as my friend described her,
except that her hair hung loose, which before was twisted within a
silk net.
