“Mademoiselle,” he said, with a sensation of extreme embarrassment, “I have the honour to ask you to marry me.”
“You need not commit yourself,” interrupted the Mother Superior. “You can have the choice of two more.”
“If I saw a hundred, madame,” he replied, “I could find no one I preferred to this young lady.”
There was another prolonged silence.
“You must answer, Suzanne,” said the old lady. “Yes or no?”
The girl burst into tears.
“Yes or no?” reiterated the Mother.
“I weep at monsieur’s extraordinary goodness,” said the girl. “Yes, madame, yes.”
Ten days later de Charruel was resting in the taro-field where he had been at work, when he felt Suzanne’s arm around his neck and her warm lips against his forehead. He leaned back with a smile.