"Well, I should not eat her," he said. "Her mother found me agreeable enough, and a shy young girl rather likes a man who takes her by storm."
"Nevertheless, I think that plan would not answer. For one thing, my cousin would object: he considers his refusal final. In fact—after much thought—for I agree with Madame de Sainfoy as to the probable advantages of a connection with a distinguished man like yourself—in fact, there is only one faint possibility that occurs to me."
"What is that, monsieur?"
Urbain hesitated. He sat looking out of the window, frowning slightly, the tips of his fingers pressed together.
"I wonder," he said—something, perhaps conscience, made the words long in coming—"I wonder if some day, in the course of the reports that he is bound, I believe, to make to the Emperor, it might occur to Monsieur le Préfet to mention—"
General Ratoneau stared blankly. "Monsieur le Préfet?"
"Well, am I wrong? I heard something of an imperial order—a list of young ladies—marriages arranged by His Majesty, without much consulting of family prejudices—"
General Ratoneau brought down his heavy fist on the table, so that the glasses jumped and clattered. His language was startling.
"Monsieur de la Marinière, you are the cleverest man in Anjou!" he shouted. "And Madame la Comtesse would not be angry?"
"I think not. But a command from the Emperor—a command coming independently from the highest quarter—would naturally carry all before it," said Urbain.