The more she saw him, the more
her light, playful fondness of former years deepened into ardent and
powerful affection. But Annette was a rural belle.
She had tasted the sweets of dominion, and had been rendered wilful
and capricious by constant indulgence at home, and admiration abroad.
She was conscious of her power over Eugene, and delighted in
exercising it. She sometimes treated him with petulant caprice,
enjoying the pain which she inflicted by her frowns, from the idea how
soon she would chase it away again by her smiles. She took a pleasure
in alarming his fears, by affecting a temporary preference to some one
or other of his rivals; and then would delight in allaying them, by an
ample measure of returning kindness. Perhaps there was some degree of
vanity gratified by all this; it might be a matter of triumph to show
her absolute power over the young soldier, who was the universal
object of female admiration. Eugene, however, was of too serious and
ardent a nature to be trifled with. He loved too fervently not to be
filled with doubt. He saw Annette surrounded by admirers, and full of
animation; the gayest among the gay at all their rural festivities,
and apparently most gay when he was most dejected.
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