"Tra! la! la! Prejudices! Is it from your husband you learned them?"
As she made no response to this direct argument, he went on, putting both questions and answers himself:
"Is she pretty?—Yes! Is she well educated?—Yes! And more ingenuous, more simple, and more honest than girls in good society. She knows as much as another, for she can speak both English and the language of Auvergne—that makes two foreign languages. She will be as rich as any heiress of the Faubourg Saint-Germain—as it was formerly called (they are now going to christen it Faubourg Sainte-Deche)—and finally, if she is a peasant's daughter, she'll be only all the more healthy to present me with fine children. Enough!"
As he had always the appearance of laughing and jesting, Christiane asked hesitatingly: "Come! are you speaking seriously?"
"Faith, I am! She is charming, this little girl! She has a good heart and a pretty face, a genial character and a good temper, rosy cheeks, bright eyes, white teeth, ruby lips, and flowing tresses, glossy, thick, and full of soft folds. And then her vinedressing father will be as rich as Croesus, thanks to your husband, my dear sister. What more do you want? The daughter of a peasant! Well, is not the daughter of a peasant as good as any of those money-lenders' daughters who pay such high prices for dukes with doubtful titles, or any of the daughters born of aristocratic prostitution whom the Empire has given us, or any of the daughters with double sires whom we meet in society? Why, if I did marry this girl I should be doing the first wise and rational act of my life!"
Christiane reflected, then, all of a sudden, convinced, overcome, delighted, she exclaimed:
"Why, all you have said is true! It is quite true, quite right! So then you are going to marry her, my little Gontran?"
It was he who now sought to moderate her ardor. "Not so quick—not so quick—let me reflect in my turn. I only declare that, if I did marry her, I would be doing the first wise and rational act of my life. That does not go so far as saying that I will marry her; but I am thinking over it; I am studying her, I am paying her a little attention to see if I can like her sufficiently. In short, I don't answer 'yes' or 'no,' but it is nearer to 'yes' than to 'no.'"
Christiane turned toward Paul: "What do you think of it, Monsieur Bretigny?"
She called him at one time Monsieur Bretigny, and at another time Bretigny only.