"So much the better if that really should be so. For my part, I do not think it looks like it. He takes no notice of her."
"When we are watching him—no."
"He seems low-spirited and absent-minded."
"He would be for less cause than this. Jean never does things in a half-and-half way. If he were in love, I mean seriously, he would be desperately in love; and if he were to be desperately in love with Bijou, or if he were to discover that he was falling in love with her, it certainly would not be a thing for him to rejoice over. He cannot—no matter how much he might wish it—he cannot marry Bijou. It is not only that he is her cousin, but he is not rich enough."
"He has about twenty thousand pounds. Bijou has eight thousand, to which I shall add another four thousand, that makes twelve thousand—total between them thirty-two thousand."
"Well, and can you imagine Bijou with an income of about nine hundred pounds a year?"
"No. I know that she would consider it enough. She makes her own dresses; everyone says they do that, but, in this case, it is a fact. Then she is very industrious and clever; she understands housekeeping wonderfully well, and for the last four years has managed everything both here and in Paris; but I could not possibly reconcile myself to the idea of seeing her enduring the hardships of a limited income—and it would be limited. Good heavens! though, I hope she will not go and fall in love with Jean."
"Oh, I do not think she will."
"You see, he is charming, the wretch; and it appears he is a great favourite?"
"Yes, certainly; but then Bijou is made so much of. She is surrounded and adored by everyone, so that she has not much time to fall in love herself!"