"It is a terrible blow to you, I know, Louis."
"The only consolation I have is your love, Mariette, and I am about to ask a fresh proof of this love."
"You have but to speak, Louis."
"I want you to marry me at once."
"Can you doubt my consent? Is this the proof of love that you asked?" inquired the young girl.
Then, after a moment's reflection, she added:
"But can we marry before your period of mourning, that only begins to-day, expires?"
"I entreat you, Mariette, not to be deterred by that scruple, decent as it appears."
"I—I will do whatever you wish."
"Listen, Mariette, my heart will be torn with regrets for a long, long time. True mourning is of the soul, and, with me, it will long exceed the period fixed by custom. I know that I honour my father's memory in every fibre of my being, and it is for this very reason that I do not feel it necessary to conform to any purely conventional custom. Believe me, a marriage contracted at so sad a time as this is of a much more solemn and sacred nature than if we married under different circumstances."