"Yes, yes, I have heard something of that," said Monsieur Joseph. "They expect a great deal from her. She is to make an advantageous marriage—it is necessary for her family. It will happen one of these days; it must. My dear little Angelot, you know nothing of the world—how can you possibly imagine—Besides, I do not care for the Sainfoys." Monsieur Joseph sighed. "I would rather you went to Brittany for a wife, and so would your mother."
"But you will help me, Uncle Joseph?" said Angelot.
"Help you! How can I? Anyhow, you must tell me more. How did you find out all this? When did those people give you an opportunity of speaking to her? From their own point of view, they are certainly very imprudent. But I suppose they think you harmless."
It is unpleasant to be thought harmless. Angelot blushed angrily.
"They may find themselves mistaken," he muttered. "I will tell you, Uncle Joseph;" and he went on to give a slight sketch of what had happened.
It seemed necessary to convince his uncle that he was not talking nonsense, that the fates had really allowed him a few minutes' talk with Hélène. He could only give half an explanation, after all; the old mulberry tree had been the only witness of what was too sacred to be told. He said that Mademoiselle Moineau's fortunate nap had given them time to understand each other.
"And this is the fine governess to whom they expect me to confide my Riette!" said Monsieur Joseph, laughing; but he became serious again directly. "And in this interview under the tree, my poor Angelot," he said very gravely, "you made up your mind to propose yourself as a husband for Mademoiselle Hélène?"
"It sounds solemn, Uncle Joseph, when you say it. But yes, I suppose you are right," said Angelot.
"It is solemn. Most solemn and serious. Something more than a flirtation, an amourette. For life, as I understand you. A real marriage à l'Anglais," said Monsieur Joseph.
For answer, Angelot raved a little. His uncle listened indulgently, with a charming smile, to all the pretty lunacies of the young man's first love, poured into an ear and a heart that would never betray or misunderstand him.