"We have heard so much in your praise," said she, "that we were very desirous of knowing you."
"I am infinitely obliged, madame."
"Especially, Emusia. She admires such men."
She could not find an adjective to designate exactly what kind of men, and added after a moment of hesitation:--
"I mean superior men. For, you see, my Emusia is a young girl of talent. What intelligence, what gifts! She devours an incredible quantity of books. Her memory is prodigious. Her wit is of the finest quality. In short, if she were not my daughter I would say that she is a marvel."
"That is what I hear from every one," said Jacob politely.
"My situation," continued she, "is an anxious one, for I have a mother's heart. To whom will my cherished one give herself? Will he appreciate her? Alas, the young men of to-day are so frivolous!"
"Mademoiselle Emusia has but to choose."
"How little you know the young men, monsieur!"
For want of breath the mother stopped. She had commenced the battle with so much impetuosity that she was already worn out. She could think of nothing more to say. She was driven to her last intrenchments, and, on his side, Jacob had exhausted all his praises. Notwithstanding, after a moment of reflection she took breath and continued:--