Everything being thus satisfactorily arranged, the old horse was
harnessed up again, and the chariot moved slowly forward on its way.
Their good meal had revived everybody's drooping spirits, and they
all, excepting the duenna and Serafina, who never walked if they could
possibly help it, trudged cheerily along, laughing and talking as they
went.
Isabelle had taken de Sigognac's offered arm, and leaned on it proudly,
glancing furtively up into his face, whenever he was looking away
from her, with eyes full of tenderness and loving admiration, never
suspecting, in her modesty, that it was for love of her that he had
decided to turn actor--a thing so revolting, as she knew, to his pride
as a gentleman. He was a hero in her eyes, and though she wished to
reproach him for his hasty action, which she would have prevented if
she could, she had not the heart to find fault with him for his
noble devotion to the common cause after all. Yet she would have
done anything, suffered everything herself, to have saved him this
humiliation; hers being one of those true, loyal hearts that forget
themselves in their love, and think only of the interests and happiness
of the being beloved. She walked on beside him until her strength was
exhausted, and then returned to her place in the chariot, giving him a
look so eloquent of love and admiration, as he carefully drew her
wraps about her, that his heart bounded with joy, and he felt that no
sacrifice could be too great which was made for her sweet sake.
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