"Cayrol, you shall not marry Jeanne for her beauty alone. I will give her a dower."
Micheline fell on her companion's neck. It was a concert of congratulations. But Jeanne, with a serious air, led Cayrol aside:
"I wish to act honestly toward you, sir; I yield to the pleading of which I am the object. But you must know that my sentiments do not change so quickly. It is my hand only which I give you today."
"I have not the conceitedness to think that you love me, Mademoiselle," said Cayrol, humbly. "You give me your hand; it will be for me to gain your heart, and with time and sincere affection I do not despair of winning it. I am truly happy, believe me, for the favor you do me, and all my life long shall be spent in proving my gratitude to you."
Jeanne was moved; she glanced at Cayrol, and did not think him so common- looking as usual. She resolved to do all in her power to like this good man.
Serge, in taking leave of Madame Desvarennes, said:
"In exchange for all the happiness which you give me, I have only my life to offer; accept it, Madame, it is yours."
The mistress looked at the Prince deeply; then, in a singular tone, said:
"I accept it; from to-day you belong to me."
Marechal took Pierre by the arm and led him outside.