In the cool, lofty rooms of the Castle of Montalme Blanche wandered
about all this time like one bewildered by a great joy. Her eyes were
half-closed, as if dazzled by too clear a radiance, and her voice was
full of plaintive rapture, like that in which the nightingale sobs his
love through the warm summer nights, and all her motions had an added
grace.
But one day Dame Isabella whispered to her, "He is desperately in love
with you!"
And it awakened Blanche out of her sweet, unconscious ecstasy. She
began to test it--to doubt! She noticed exactly how often he addressed
a word directly to her, was sad if he passed her without seeking
response; his glance to her glance--his smile to her smile!