As for de Sigognac, he gazed at her with unfeigned delight, his dark, expressive eyes eloquent of adoring love and deep reverence.

A new sentiment mingled with his passion now--ever since she had opened her heart to him, and let him see all its heavenly purity and goodness--which elevated, ennobled, and intensified it.

He knew now the true, lofty beauty of her soul, that it was akin to the angels, and but for the keen, ever-increasing grief he suffered because of her firm refusal to give herself wholly to him, his happiness, in possessing her faithful, devoted love, would have been too perfect for this life of trials and sorrow.
When supper was over, de Sigognac accompanied Isabelle to the threshhold of her own room, and said ere he left her, "Be sure to fasten your door securely, my sweet Isabelle, for there are so many people about in a great hotel like this that one cannot be too careful." "You need have no fears for me here, my dear baron," she replied; "only look at this lock, and you will be convinced of that.

Why it is strong enough for a prison door, and the key turns thrice in it.

And here is a great thick bolt besides--actually as long as my arm.