Monsieur Gerbault transmitted his daughter's reply to the two suitors who had asked for her hand. Young Anatole took his rebuff without any indication of emotion. He said simply:

"I am very thorry, becauth our two voitheth went very well together. I am thure that we would have thung beautifully, and I am tho fond of muthic that we thould have been very happy."

The Comte de la BÉriniÈre did not accept Adolphine's refusal of his offer so philosophically.

"Upon my word, my dear Gerbault," he exclaimed, "I have bad luck with your daughters! One marries just when I am about to ask for her hand. This one will have none of me; for I understand perfectly that her reply is simply a courteously disguised refusal. Well, I must make the best of it! I will take a trip into Italy, and try to console myself. The Italian women are not the equals of your daughters, but, at all events, they will distract my thoughts."

And, a few days later, the Comte de la BÉriniÈre did, in fact, leave Paris.

But there was one person who was entirely unable to understand Adolphine's conduct: that was her sister Fanny. Learning that she had refused to marry either Monsieur de Raincy or the count, she went to see her one morning.

"Can what father tells me be true? You have refused to marry, when two magnificent partis have offered themselves? But, no, it can't be true; you haven't done that! or else you were sick at the time. Surely you didn't realize what you said, when you gave father that answer?"

"Indeed I did, my dear love," Adolphine replied, with a smile; "I knew perfectly well what I was saying; I had considered the matter fully when I refused to marry those gentlemen."

"Upon my word, I don't understand you! What reason, what motives, can have prompted your refusal? The Comte de la BÉriniÈre has thirty thousand francs a year; and he would make you a countess. Just think of it—a countess! Isn't it perfectly bewildering to think of being called Madame la Comtesse?"

"It tempts me very little."

"To be sure, the count is no longer young; but, once married, if you knew, my dear girl, how little you think about your husband's age! Auguste might be sixty years old, now, and it would be all the same to me."

"My ideas are not at all the same as yours, as I have already told you."

"But I have had experience now, and you ought to listen to me. Come, let us admit that you refused the count because you thought he was too old, which is the merest childishness—that reason doesn't apply in the case of Monsieur de Raincy; he is young, good-looking——"

"He has a stupid, self-sufficient manner."

"But what difference does that make? I have always heard it said that a stupid man makes an excellent husband. I should be glad enough if my husband was stupid! Then he wouldn't keep flinging little sarcastic remarks at me when I talk about the state of the market—of the rise or fall in railway shares. Auguste is clever—yes, very clever. But what good does it do me to have him clever and agreeable in society? In his own home, a husband never uses his wit except to make sport of his wife. Monsieur Anatole de Raincy isn't as rich as the count, but he has a very good position in society. Where do you expect to find a better match?"

"I expect nothing."

"Why do you refuse these offers, then?"

"Because I do not love either of them."

"Ah! an excellent reason! How absurd you are, my poor Adolphine! Happiness in wedlock does not consist in love, but in wealth, in luxury, in the power to buy whatever we please, to have magnificent dresses which drive other women mad, to go to balls and parties every day, to have the best boxes at the theatre; not in having to sit sighing by your husband while you watch the soup-kettle."

"I have told you before that my tastes aren't the same as yours."

"Oh! you say that, but, in reality, you would be very glad to cut as fine a figure yourself. But you are romantic! perhaps you have a passion hidden away in your heart. Oh! yes, to refuse two such chances as you have had, you must be in love with somebody!"

Adolphine blushed, but made haste to reply:

"No, you are mistaken. I never think of any man; it is not right of you to say that."

"Very well! then, my dear girl, I say again that it was perfectly absurd of you to refuse those two! Adieu! I am going to select some flowers for my head, for I am going to a large party to-night, and I propose to eclipse all the other women."

Some little time after this interview, Adolphine was alone, thinking of him whose image was always present in her mind; for she had not told her sister the truth when she said that she never thought of any man; but there are passions which one does not choose to confide except to a heart capable of understanding them, and she was well aware that Fanny would not understand hers.

Madeleine suddenly entered her mistress's room, and said:

"Mamzelle, a young man wants to speak to you."

"To me? He probably has business with my father."

"No, mamzelle; it was you he asked to see—and monsieur your father isn't at home, either."

"Very well! show him in."

Soon the door opened anew, and Gustave appeared before Adolphine. The girl uttered an exclamation, for she recognized him at once; and she was so disturbed that she had to lean upon a chair.

"What! is it you, Monsieur Gustave?" she murmured.

Madeleine retired, for she read in her mistress's eyes that the visit caused her no displeasure.

"Yes, Mademoiselle Adolphine," Gustave replied; "yes, my dear sister. Ah! allow me to call you by that name still, as I used, for we have had no falling-out; you have not spurned me, and I venture to hope that you still feel for me a little of that sweet friendship which you seemed to feel in the old days."

Adolphine was so perturbed that she could hardly stammer:

"Of course—yes—I have no reason not to be the same as always with you. But do sit down, Monsieur Gustave. Mon Dieu!—how strange it is!—it's only five months since we saw each other—and you seem changed—— Oh! not for the worse—on the contrary—you have a more serious, more thoughtful, air than before. Is it the result of your travels?"

Adolphine was right; the five months which Gustave had passed away from France had wrought a very considerable change in him, to his advantage; he had lost that bewildered, hare-brained look which people used to criticise in him; now he was a man—young, no doubt, but whose serious, sedate, sensible aspect indicated a person who was accustomed to think before speaking, and to reflect before acting. His face had gained vastly by the change; his manner was colder, perhaps, but you realized that you could rely on what he said. Lastly, the faintest shadow of melancholy that could still be detected on his brow gave an added charm to the gentle expression of his eyes and to the tone of his voice.

Adolphine saw all this at a glance: that is all a woman needs to draw a man's portrait. With trembling hand she pointed to a chair, and Gustave sat down beside her with an ease of manner which covered no hidden motive.

"I don't know whether my travels have changed me," said the young man; "they may, perhaps, have matured my mind somewhat; they have made me a better business man. I realize fully now that I did some things which lacked common-sense, and I shall not make such a fool of myself again!"

"Oh! you are cured of your love for Fanny?" cried Adolphine, with an expression of delight which she could not restrain.

"No, dear Adolphine, no, that is not what I meant!" replied Gustave, sadly; "do what I will, I haven't yet been able to drive that love from my heart. But I meant simply that that unhappy passion will not lead me into doing any more such absurd, unreasonable things as I once did. I have become a man; if I suffer, I can at least conceal my suffering. I have learned to respect the happiness of other people—the desire to disturb it is very far from my thoughts! I realize, in short, that I ought, above all things, to avoid the presence of her who cannot, should not, sympathize with the pain she causes me."

Adolphine turned her head away to conceal the tears which filled her eyes, murmuring:

"Mon Dieu! do you still love her as dearly as ever?"

"I don't know whether it is less or more—I don't know how much I love her; and I would give anything in the world to cease thinking of her! But I cannot—do what I will, her image is always here. I forget that she flirted with me—that she pretended to love me, only to throw me over the next minute. I say to myself that all women try to please, and that they cannot love all the men they have fascinated. I say to myself that this Monsieur Auguste MonlÉard offered her a brilliant fortune, and all the pleasures, all the enjoyment, all the luxury, in which, to a young woman, the happiness of life consists.—I say all this to myself, and I understand perfectly how she could have refused the poor clerk's hand to accept that of the man who was wealthy and distinguished. So that, if I am unhappy, I can blame nothing but fortune—and Fanny is so pretty, so fascinating, so well worthy to shine in society! She will never be mine, and yet I love her—yes, I still love her! They say that men don't know the meaning of constancy; but you see that that isn't true, Adolphine; you see that there are some who can love faithfully—and, unluckily, they are the ones who are not loved."

Adolphine did not reply for some time; she was suffocating, she could not keep back the tears which dimmed her sight. Gustave saw them; he seized her hand and pressed it, crying:

"You weep—dear sister!—my unhappiness makes you shed tears. Oh! forgive me for coming here and grieving you by the story of my suffering."

"Yes—it does grieve me to know that you are unhappy! But, after all, it seems to me that you ought to try—that you do not make enough effort to divert your thoughts; you see, when one has no hope, one ought to forget."

"Oh! that makes no difference at all."

"Yes, it is possible.—How long since you returned to Paris?"

"Only last evening; and, as you see, I came to you at once this morning."

"Yes—to talk to me about her!"

"I admit it—but to see you, too,—you who have always shown me so much affection, and whom I am so happy to call my sister still!"

"Oh! of course—because that was the name you gave me when you were to marry Fanny! But you don't know—I have not dared to tell you that father says that you must not come to our house any more!"

"Not come here any more! Why not, pray?"

"Why, because of that unfortunate duel——"

"Duel! What do you mean? What duel?"

"What! you don't know? Hasn't your uncle told you about it?"

"I told you that I only arrived last night; my uncle talked about nothing but matters of business, which are of much more importance in his eyes than anything else. Tell me what duel you are talking about?"

"Do you remember the man who dined with you on the day of my sister's wedding?"

"Yes, a curious creature whom I happened to meet—and who took pity on the state of frenzy I was in at that time."

"Was he a friend of yours?"

"As I tell you, I had known him only a few hours; but I had lost my head that day; you know that better than anybody, dear Adolphine, for you found time, even on that day, to come to me and say a few comforting words.—But what about that man?"

"Well, at night, when my sister went away from the ball with her husband, he was standing near, just as they were entering their carriage. That man—he was drunk, no doubt, but still he insulted my sister."

"The villain! He dared——"

"Yes, he said: 'There goes the faithless Fanny!'—My sister, who heard the words plainly, told me herself. Was that an insult? Tell me frankly, Monsieur Gustave, hadn't you yourself applied that name to my sister more than once that day?"

"It is quite possible; but I was out of my head, I didn't know what I was saying. That did not give that fellow, whose very name I don't remember, the right to repeat my words."

"Auguste heard him, and the next day he fought a duel with the man."

"And what was the result?"

"A sword-thrust in my brother-in-law's forearm, which forced him to carry his arm in a sling at least six weeks."

"Mon Dieu! that incident may well have occasioned unfortunate scenes between the husband and wife; it may have disturbed the domestic happiness of—your sister. She probably accused me of being the original cause of the duel! This is maddening!"

"Don't be alarmed, Monsieur Gustave! you don't know Fanny! The affair affected her very little, her happiness wasn't disturbed by it for a single minute. She goes to some festivity, amuses herself in some way, every day! Oh! she is happy."

"So much the better! And her husband—he adores her still, I fancy?"

"As to that, I can't answer. If they adore each other, it hardly appears on the surface!"

"What! Fanny doesn't love her husband?"

"I don't say that she doesn't love him! but my sister isn't capable of loving like us—like you, I mean. She has so much to take up her time in the way of gowns, head-dresses, new styles, and so forth! How do you suppose she can find time to love her husband?"

"However, I am entirely innocent in this matter of the duel."

"Oh! that is what I have always told father, who has only known it a few days, by the way. For, as you can imagine, they didn't publish it. Monsieur MonlÉard's injury was supposed to have been caused by a fall on the stairs."

"But why doesn't your father want me to come here? It wasn't a crime to love his elder daughter and to aspire to her hand! It is true, I was very poor, then; to-day, I could offer her more; my uncle, who is very well satisfied with the way I attend to business now, said to me at breakfast this morning: 'From to-day, I give you an interest in my business, and I guarantee you not less than ten thousand francs a year, whether there are any profits or not.'"

"Ah! that is very nice, Monsieur Gustave; I am very glad for you."

"Dear little sister! If you knew how indifferently I received the news of this increase in my income! Ah! that isn't what I look to for happiness!"

"Nor I, either! But, as so many people think differently, probably we are wrong."

"I am thinking about your father, who doesn't want me to come here any more."

"In the first place, he was convinced that there would be no need to say anything to you about it; that you would never have any desire to come to our house again."

"Why so, pray?"

"I don't know why; for my part, I didn't think as he did. Something told me that you would come—to hear about Fanny—to talk about her. I guessed right, did I not?"

"Yes, yes! you read my heart."

"For I know very well that that was the only reason it occurred to you to come here."

"Do you think that I am not fond of you—of you and your father?"

"Oh! I don't say that; but my father fears—suppose you should meet my sister here?"

"I should be able to act with her as with a person who was a total stranger to me. Does she come to see you often?"

"No, not often. She has so many other calls to make! She knows so many people now!"

At that moment the bell rang.

"Mon Dieu!" said Adolphine; "if it should be my father!"

"Why, I will go and offer him my hand, and I am sure that he won't refuse it."

"But if it should be——"

Adolphine had not time to finish her sentence. The door of her chamber was hastily thrown open, and her sister entered.