The heart of Frances beat with a pulsation nearly stifling, as he paused
for a moment, and took a survey of the building, with an eye whose dark
and sparkling glance could be seen, notwithstanding the distance. Her
color changed, and for an instant, as she saw the youth throw himself
from the saddle, she was compelled to seek relief for her trembling
limbs in a chair.
The officer gave a few hasty orders to his second in command, walked
rapidly into the lawn, and approached the cottage. Frances rose from her
seat, and vanished from the apartment. The dragoon ascended the steps of
the piazza, and had barely time to touch the outer door, when it opened
to his admission.
The youth of Frances, when she left the city, had prevented her
sacrificing, in conformity to the customs of that day, all her native
beauties on the altar of fashion. Her hair, which was of a golden
richness of color, was left, untortured, to fall in the natural ringlets
of infancy, and it shaded a face which was glowing with the united
charms of health, youth, and artlessness; her eyes spoke volumes, but
her tongue was silent; her hands were interlocked before her, and, aided
by her taper form, bending forward in an attitude of expectation, gave a
loveliness and an interest to her appearance, that for a moment chained
her lover in silence to the spot.
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