"No," she answered after reflecting a moment; "the time has not yet come for that. I would not like to risk a hasty word."
"See here," I said to her, "I am sure that what you have in mind is one of those ridiculous stories about Victorin that for some time have been floating about in the army, without its being possible to trace the slanders to their source. Can you, Sampso, you, with all your good sense and good heart, make yourself the echo of such gossip, such unworthy calumnies?"
"Adieu, Schanvoch; I told you I was not going to quarrel with you, dear brother, on the subject of the hero whom you defend against all comers."
"What would you have me do? It is my foible. I love his mother as an own sister. I love her son as if he were my own. Are you not as guilty as myself, Sampso? Is not my little Alguen, your sister's son, as dear to you as if he were your own child? Take my word for it, when Alguen will be twenty and you hear him accused of some youthful indiscretion, you will, I feel quite sure, defend him with even more warmth than I defend Victorin. But we need not wait so long, have you not begun your role of pleader for him, already? When the rascal is guilty of some misconduct, is it not his aunt Sampso whom he fetches to intercede in his behalf? He knows how you love him!"
"Is not my sister's son mine?"
"Is that the reason you do not wish to marry?"
"Surely, brother," she answered with a blush and a slight embarrassment. After a moment's silence she resumed:
"I hope you will be back home at noon to complete our little feast?"
"The moment my mission is fulfilled I shall return. Adieu, Sampso!"
"Adieu, Schanvoch!"