“Mademoiselle Charlotte is right,” said Calyste; “you are not just.”
“Oh, you!” replied Mademoiselle de Pen-Hoel, “she has bewitched you.”
“I regard her,” said Calyste, “with the same friendship that I feel for you.”
“Since when have the du Guenics taken to telling lies?” asked the old maid.
“Since the Pen-Hoels have grown deaf,” replied Calyste.
“Are you not in love with her?” demanded the old maid.
“I have been, but I am so no longer,” he said.
“Bad boy! then why have you given us such anxiety? I know very well that love is only foolishness; there is nothing solid but marriage,” she remarked, looking at Charlotte.
Charlotte, somewhat reassured, hoped to recover her advantages by recalling the memories of childhood. She leaned affectionately on Calyste’s arm, who resolved in his own mind to have a clear explanation with the little heiress.
“Ah! what fun we shall have at mouche, Calyste!” she said; “what good laughs we used to have over it!”