r above waiting for the landlord. Michel Voss had begun to feel that his visitor would be very heavy on hand, having come there as a visitor and not as a man of bu

ngry, thoroughly imperious, and resolute to have his way with the dependent girl, or else to be all smiles, and kin

be, Uncle Mich

you well, and think so much of you, that we would not intrust you to any one living, who did not bear a high character and seem to deserve you.' He was looking into Marie's face as he spoke, and saw that she was soft and thoughtful in

great straggli

is my duty and your aunt's duty-' it was always a sign of high good humour on the part of Michel Voss, when he s

e the best for me in

s way of life naturally. But sometimes, when I have seen you waiting

ter couldn't do it all, and he'

uch a handsome young woman.' Marie laughed, and turned up her nose and shook her head; but it may be presumed that she received some comfort from her uncle's

ways hands the soup

u are waiting upon

nd her and kissed her. Had he known at that moment what her feelings were in regard to his son, he would have recommended Adr

the sort of reward we look forward to from those we love and cherish. But, Marie, when we see you as you are now-your aunt a

d, uncle! Why should w

years longer, you yourself would become very tired of it. It isn't what we s

I c

f I were not your uncle.' Then she caressed his arm. How was she to keep herself from caressing him, when he spoke so sweetly to her? 'We were not a bit surprised when he cam

to speak of me as thou

o comes after her. Well;-he told us that it was the great wish of his life that you should be his wife. He's a man

all that

loosely abroad;-'no more than that, if he were not himself well-behaved along with it. We want to

't love him,

sn't do for young women to let themselves be run away with by romantic ideas;-it doesn't, indeed, my dear. I've heard of young women who've fallen in love with statues and men in armour out of poetry, and grand fellows that they put i

man in armour,

t herself well settled, if she has the opportunity. There are people who think so much of money, that they'd gi

e how old he was

ption, 'nor to an ill-tempered fellow, or one who gambled, or one who wou

who have no fau

, Marie, I couldn't sleep for thinking of it.' On hearing this, she flung her arms round his neck and kissed him on each cheek and on his lips. 'I get to feel so, Marie, if there's anything wrong between you and me, that I don't know what I'm doing. Will you do this for me, my dear? Come and sit at table with us this evening, and make one of us. At any rate, come and show that we don't want to make a servant of you. Then we'll put off the rest of it till to

t she might become his wife, how afterwards could she hold her ground? And if she were really resolute to hold her ground, would it not be much better that she should do so by giving up no point, even though her uncle's anger should rise hot against her? But now she had promised her uncle, and she knew th

was of course understood now that Marie was not to be troubled till the time came for her to sit down at table with her smart frock. Mi

, 'and so she'll fall into the way of being intimate with him

fternoon Adrian Urmand was taken out for a drive to the ravine by Madame Voss. They both, no doubt, felt that this was very tedious; but they were by nature patient-quite unlike Michel Voss or Marie-and each of them was a

ile the young man was away at the ravine, and swore to him that nothing on earth should induce her to marry Adrian Urmand? But brave as Marie was, she was afraid to do this. He had told her how he suffered when they two did not stand well together, and she feared to be accused by him of unkindness and ingratitude. And how would it be with her if she did accept the man? She was sufficiently alive to the necessities of the world to know that it would be well to have a home of her own, and a husband, and children if God would send them. She understood quite as well as Michel Voss did that to be head-waiter at the Lion d'Or was not a career in

went first, and then followed Adrian and Madame Voss together. The accustomed guests were all ready, because it had come to be generally understood that this supper was to be as it were a supper of betrothal. Madame Voss had on her black silk gown. Michel had changed his coat and his

had kept her word with him. He was very awkward. When one of the old ladies was about to seat herself in the chair next to Adrian-in preparation for which it must be admitted that Marie had made certain wicked arrangements-Michel first by signs and afterwards with audible words, intended to be whisper

ear, are you

rie, in a clear voice, as she

ad been her chair. But Michel had insisted on bringing the old lady round to the seat that Marie had intended for herself, and so had disarranged all her plans. The old lady had simpered and smiled and made a little speech to M. Urmand, which ever

ut you'll find you'll miss

ther have you than his supper,'

s a pause, a

ars ago; but nowadays men like their supper,' said Marie, who was

ve offence,' said the

ad said, repented so bitterly that

ence at all,' sa

ou a little wine?' said Adri

s, but the wine remained in it to the e

as not at her ease, but she made a bold fight-which was more than was done by her uncle or her aunt. Michel was unable to speak in his ordinary voice or with his usual authority, and Madame Voss hardly uttered a word. Urmand, whose position was the hardest of all, struggled gallan

r that she was not to be disturbed again till the morrow. On the next morning she was to be subjected to the grand trial. She understood

unt, coming to her after she had gone to h

e; 'I have not

nt looking at her, and th

ly that she should be prosperous and happy. His heart almost relented; and at one moment, had Marie come across him, he would have released her. 'Let it go on,' he said to himself, as he took up his cap and stic

hould show herself. At about noon, as soon as her uncle had started, her aunt came to her and asked her whether sh

will you se

rie, with something that was a

ome up-stai

t, h

e. You might go into th

sitors to Granpere did not care to pay for the luxury of this Parisian elegance, and the room was almost always empty. Thither Marie went, and seated herself at once on the centre of the red, stuffy, velvet sofa. There she sat, perfectly motionless, till there came a knock at the door. Marie Bromar was a very handsome girl, but as she sat there, all alone, with her hands crossed on her lap, wit

have turned up her nose. He had been invited over to Granpere specially that he might spend his time in making love, and he had found the task before him very hard and disagreeable. He was afflicted with all the ponderous notoriety of an acknowledged suitor's position, but was consoled with

s hand to her, 'doubtless you kn

I do,' sh

t doubt my true a

she replied. 'I have no rea

should be married. What answer will you make me, Marie?' Again she paused. She had allowed him to take her hand, and as he thus

ve thought

, dea

e so,' said she, standing

wretched feeling that none of the triumph of successful love had come to him. He was almost disappointed,-or if not disappointed, was at any rate embarrassed

my best,'

r, and she did not turn away her face from him. '

good.' There was another pause during which he stood,

define the knowledge to himself, that she had accepted him in obedience to her uncle. He was almost angry, but being cautious and even-tempered by nature he repressed the

r this evening; shal

knew, only reasonable now that they should be togeth