The presence of the neophyte obliged us to greet each other with what is called decency, and she allowed me to kiss her without raising her eyes, but blushing violently.
After the usual commonplaces had passed and we had indulged in some double meanings which made us laugh and her look thoughtful, I told her she was pretty as a little love, and that I felt sure that her mind, as beautiful as its casket, could harbour no prejudices.
“I have all the prejudices which honour and religion suggest,” she modestly replied.
I saw that this was a case requiring very delicate treatment. There was no question of carrying the citadel by sudden assault. But, as usual, I fell in love with her.
The syndic having pronounced my name, she said,—
“Ah! then, you, sir, are the person who discussed some very singular questions with my cousin, the pastor’s niece. I am delighted to make your acquaintance.”
“I am equally pleased to make yours, but I hope the pastor’s niece said nothing against me.”
“Not at all; she has a very high opinion of you.”
“I am going to dine with her to-morrow, and I shall take care to thank her.”
“To-morrow! I should like to be there, for I enjoy philosophical discussions though I never dare to put a word in.”