The brief interview held with young Pierre sealed the maiden’s fate.  She knew nothing of love before the beautiful youth stood before her—­her heart was as pure as an infant’s—­she was artlessness itself.  She had heard him so often spoken of by his mother, that she had learned to think of Pierre as the kindest and best of youths.  She saw him, for the first time, as one to love.  His face, his tones, the air of refinement and intelligence that was about him, all conspired to win her young affections.  But of the true nature of her feelings, Nina was as yet ignorant.  She did not think of love.  She did not, therefore, hesitate as to the propriety of continuing her visits at the cottage of Blanche Delebarre, nor did she feel any reserve in the presence of Pierre.  Not until the enamored youth presumed to whisper the passion her presence had awakened in his bosom, did she fully understand the cause of the delight she always felt while by his side.

After Pierre had been home a few weeks, he ventured to explain to his mother the cause of his unexpected and unannounced return.  He had disagreed with his uucle, who, in a passion, had reminded him of his dependence.  This the high-spirited youth could not bear, and he left his uncle’s house within twenty-four hours, with a fixed resolution never to return.  He had come back to the village, resolved, he said, to lead a peasant’s life of toil, rather than live with a relative who could so far forget himself as to remind him of his dependence.  Poor Blanche was deeply grieved.  All her fond hopes for her son were at an end.  She looked at his small, delicate hands and slender pro-portions, and wept when she thought of a peasant’s life of hard labor.

A very long time did not pass before Nina made a proposition to Blanche, that relieved, in some measure, the painful depression under which she labored.  It was this.  Pierre had, from a child, exhibited a decided talent for painting.  This talent had been cultivated by the uncle, and Pierre was, already, quite a respectable artist.  But he needed at least a year’s study of the old masters, and more accurate instruction than he had yet received, before he would be able to adopt the painter’s calling as one by which he could take an independent position in society as a man.  Understanding this fully, Nina said that Pierre must go to Florence, and remain there a year, in order to perfect himself in the art, and that she would claim the privilege of bearing all the expense.  For a time, the young man’s proud spirit shrunk from an acceptance of this generous offer; but Nina and the mother overruled all his objections, and almost forced him to go.

It may readily be understood, now, why Nina ceased to render accurate accounts of her charitable expenditures to her father.  The baron entertained not the slightest suspicion of the real state of affairs, until about a year afterward, when a fine looking youth presented himself one day, and boldly preferred a claim to his daughter’s hand.  The old man was astounded.