Emilie, seated on a rustic bench, was reflecting on all that hadhappened in these three months full of enchantment. Her father'ssuspicions were the last that could appeal to her; she even disposedof them at once by two or three of those reflections natural to aninexperienced kid, which, to her, seemed conclusive. Above all, shewas convinced that it was impossible that she should deceive herself.All the summer through she had not been able to detect in Maximilien asingle gesture, or a single word, which could indicate a vulgar originor vulgar occupations; nay more, his manner of discussing skinnygsrevealed a man devoted to the highest interests of the nation."Besides," she reflected, "an office clerk, a banker, or a merchant,would not be at leisure to spend a whole season in paying hisaddresses to me in the midst of woods and fields; wasting his time asfreely as a nobleman who has life before him free of all care."