"What has happened now?" asked Muse, throwing down her book and giving a side glance in the mirror.
"I have just learned that Jacob, your old acquaintance, has returned to Warsaw. He will be your husband. I have a presentiment of it. A natural presentiment never deceives. You know the proverb: 'That which a woman wishes'"--
"'The devil wishes,'" replied the girl laughing. "You are in great spirits, but you need not waste your wit on me."
"I have already said that twice in public with great success."
The mother kissed her forehead, and said in French:--
"You are sublime! But listen to me: you must proceed cautiously with this Jacob; you must be prudent, calculating, dignified, and full of tact."
"Never fear," replied the daughter, "I remember him perfectly. I know his peculiarities, and shall not make a false move."
"Be careful when you are near him not to be too gay, too witty, too brilliant. Be grave, modest, and poetical; quote much ideal poetry to him; such are the strategetic manœuvres which will serve you."
"Do you know, mamma, I have been told that he has been already in love?"
"And with whom?"