Now, before this, though she said
many kind and pretty things in her letters, she had never invited him to
visit the chateau; he had noticed this. "Sweet soul," thought he, "she
really is vexed. I must be a brute to think any more about it. Still"--
So this wound was skinned over.
At last, what he called his lucky star ordained that he should be
transferred to the very post his Commandant Raynal had once occupied. He
sought and obtained permission to fix his quarters in the little village
near Beaurepaire, and though this plan could not be carried out for
three months, yet the prospect of it was joyful all that time--joyful to
both lovers. Rose needed this consolation, for she was very unhappy: her
beloved sister, since their return from Frejus, had gone back. The flush
of health was faded, and so was her late energy. She fell into
deep depression and languor, broken occasionally by fits of nervous
irritation.
She would sit for hours together at one window languishing and fretting.
Can the female reader guess which way that window looked?
Now, Edouard was a favorite of Josephine's; so Rose hoped he would help
to distract her attention from those sorrows which a lapse of years
alone could cure.
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