"Ha! ha! that is delicious! but I tell you again, it isn't enough for me."

"In the evening, you always sit beside her; you can whisper to her and squeeze her hand."

"My poor Amelie, you make me laugh with your provincial privileges; a man has much greater ones in Paris with young women he isn't proposing to marry."

"So much the worse for the girls in Paris, brother."

"Or so much the better, for, after all, severity overdone is often harmful; when the principles of virtue are once engraved on a girl's mind, I don't see why she should not be allowed a reasonable degree of liberty; those who would make missteps would surely have done it later; but those who would always behave themselves, and would not abuse the privilege of listening to foolish talk, they, my dear Amelie, would bring with them, when they marry, a guarantee of their virtue; for you will agree that there is no great merit in being innocent when it is impossible to be anything else."

"Oh! what ideas you have about women, brother! It is easy to see that you have been spoiled in Paris."

"I have much less narrow ideas than yours as to the training of girls, sister; for example, I strongly approve the English method, by which they are allowed to do whatever they choose before marriage. In London, an unmarried girl goes out alone to call on her friends and acquaintances. She may go to a concert or theatre with a young man, without arousing the suspicion that he is her lover. She goes to b.a.l.l.s without a mentor; and in society she may laugh and talk and lead the conversation, without being called to order by her parents. But when she is once married, there's a great difference; she must lead an orderly, quiet life, devoted entirely to the care of her household and her children; she goes out only with her husband, receives no men except in his presence, and at parties and receptions consorts with persons of her own s.e.x, who, like herself, refrain from joining the men, whom they generally leave at table after dinner to drink and tell stories. Well!

do you think that such a very bad system? For my part, I am convinced that there are fewer deceived husbands in England than in France."

"Bah! they are deceived there before marriage, that's all the difference."

"And here, after marriage."

"Brother!"

"Oh! don't be angry; I didn't mean that for you."

"Well! what is the point of your remarks?"

"I want you to procure me a tete-a-tete with Pelagie."

"A tete-a-tete! do you mean it?"

"With my future bride, it will be perfectly proper!"

"But propriety--good morals!"

"Propriety and good morals cannot be offended."

"But the custom!"

"Your customs are beginning to be very irksome to me; and if you don't obtain me the interview I desire, I am quite capable of decamping some fine morning and leaving you with my intended and her aunt and all the gossip of the town on your hands!"

"Oh! mon Dieu! the reckless fellow! he makes me shudder!--Well, I'll try to arrange it. After all, you're to be married in a week, and--and--in fact---- But I have an idea: I will go to Madame de Pontchartrain and ask her permission to take her niece with me to make some purchases that are necessary for her wedding; she can't refuse me; then I'll bring Pelagie here, and you can talk to her at your leisure."

"That's a happy idea!"

"But I trust, my dear, that you will behave yourself, and----"

"Don't be alarmed! Really, you have a very low opinion of me."

"The fact that I am going to fetch your intended proves the contrary."

My sister did, in fact, go to Madame de Pontchartrain's. My threat of leaving Melun had made poor Amelie tremble; she had not even been willing to let me go to Paris to purchase the indispensable gifts; Deneterre had undertaken to do all that. I did not insist, for I might have fallen in with somebody in Paris who would have made me forget my marriage.

Amelie succeeded in her mission; she soon returned with Pelagie, who, on seeing me, blushed and courtesied as if I were a stranger.

"Here is my brother, who will be delighted to talk with you," said Amelie, as she led Pelagie into the house. "I have a thousand things to do, and I am compelled to leave you for a few minutes; but you will be united in a week, so I can see no great harm in leaving you together."

Amelie left us, and I was alone with my future wife at last. Pelagie seated herself at a considerable distance from me, so I began by placing my chair close to hers and taking possession of both her hands. I was glad to see that she made no effort to withdraw them. I gazed at her for several minutes; she kept her eyes fixed on the floor and said not a word. I concluded that if I did not begin the conversation we should sit in silence and without moving all day long; indeed, it was my place to begin.

"You know, mademoiselle, that we are to be married?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"In a week, I shall be your husband."

"Yes, monsieur."

"Does the prospect please you?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Then you love me a little?"

"Yes, monsieur."

That was not bad for a beginning. Still, I was anxious to obtain something besides that everlasting _yes, monsieur_.--I tried to go about it so as to make her reply less briefly.

"When you first saw me, did you pick me out from the rest, prefer me to other young men?"

Doubtless that question seemed embarra.s.sing to her; it was some time before she answered, but at last I heard a _yes, monsieur_.

"Had your heart never spoken before you saw me?"

"I don't know, monsieur."

"What! do you mean that you have been in love before?"

"Oh! no, monsieur; I don't know anything about love."

"Why, you do now, don't you?"

"No, monsieur."

"Then you don't love me?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Would you prefer another to me?"

"I don't know, monsieur."