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Updated: May 2, 2025
"Oh, no!" murmured Belle-bouche, blushing. "Then do not wound mine!" cried Jacques; "dearest Belle-bouche! light of my heart that was your portrait! Listen to your faithful " Poor, poor Jacques! Fate played with him.
I know 'tis something pretty by the manner in which you smile," she says, laughing. "Who knows, I would say, but in following her, fairest Belle-bouche may I call you Belle-bouche?" "Oh yes, if you please if you think it suits me." And she pours the full light of her eyes and smiles upon him, until he looks down, blinded. "Pity, pity," he murmurs, "pity, dearest Miss Belle-bouche "
The beauty treated this well-timed compliment with a smile. "Oh, no," she said; "I am only working a screen." "It is very pretty." "Do you think so?" "Yes." And then Jacques paused; his conversation as usual dried up like a fountain at midsummer. He made a desperate effort. "I thought I heard you singing as I entered," he said. "Yes, I believe I was," smiled Belle-bouche.
"I always fancy myself in Arcady when I am near you," he said tenderly. "Why? because you find me very idle?" "Oh, no; but Arcady, you know, was the abode of sylvan queens dryads and oreads and naiads," said the classic Jacques; "and you are like them." "Like a dryad?" "They were very beautiful." Belle-bouche blushed again; and to conceal her blushes bent over the screen. Jacques sighed.
"'Tis the strong hand, not the true heart, which conquers." "Oh no, it is not!" said Belle-bouche. "What then?" "The good, kind heart, faithful and sincere." Jacques fixed his eyes upon her blushing face, which leaned upon one of her fair hands the other hand meanwhile being an object of deep interest to her eyes, cast down toward it. "And should such a heart be wounded?" he said.
"And passing through the forests wrap her in my cloak " Belle-bouche laughed. "And crossing the streams on narrow moss-clad logs, support her with my arm as the dearest and most blessed treasure upon earth!" cried Jacques, seizing the hand of Belle-bouche, which hung down, and enraptured that she did not withdraw it.
Finally, in a paroxysm of internal rage, and a perfect outward calmness, the graceful Jacques retires with a last look for Belle-bouche. One thought consoles him. He will escort her to the ball, and on his return in his two-seated curriculum defy the interruption of all the Asinuses that ever lived. Poor Jacques! as he goes sadly back, the cloud rising upon the dream is more asleep than ever.
Whereat Belle-bouche would smile, and play with their curls, and they would run and play again.
This was Belle-bouche, as we have said; and the tender languishing face of the little beauty was full of joy at the bright scene. As for poor Jacques, he was oceans deep in love, and scarcely looked at any other lady in the room. This caused much amusement among his friends who were looking at him; but what does a lover care for laughter? "Ah!" he says, "a truly Arcadian scene!
"What a lovely day!" said Belle-bouche, in order to divert the conversation. "Aunt and myself thought we'd come down to the quarters and see the sick. I carried mammy Lucy some nice things, and aunt went on to see about some spinning, and I came here to look over this book of songs, which I have just got from London."
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