“But who is he? What does he do?” asked Hortense. “Is he a prince?”
“A prince of artisans, as I am queen of the bobbin. Is a poor woman like me likely to find a lover in a man with a fine house and money in the funds, or in a duke of the realm, or some Prince Charming out of a fairy tale?”
“Oh, I should so much like to see him!” cried Hortense, smiling.
“To see what a man can be like who can love the Nanny Goat?” retorted Lisbeth.
“He must be some monster of an old clerk, with a goat’s beard!” Hortense said to her mother.
“Well, then, you are quite mistaken, mademoiselle.”
“Then you mean that you really have a lover?” Hortense exclaimed in triumph.
“As sure as you have not!” retorted Lisbeth, nettled.
“But if you have a lover, why don’t you marry him, Lisbeth?” said the Baroness, shaking her head at her daughter. “We have been hearing rumors about him these three years. You have had time to study him; and if he has been faithful so long, you should not persist in a delay which must be hard upon him. After all, it is a matter of conscience; and if he is young, it is time to take a brevet of dignity.”
Cousin Betty had fixed her gaze on Adeline, and seeing that she was jesting, she replied: