“Need I tell to you the many reasons? Besides, it is your duty. No man can be really a trustworthy member of society till he has married and ranged himself. It is clearly your duty to range yourself at a certain time of life, and accept the responsibilities that nature imposes. Besides, what would become of us if young men did not marry? There would be a mob of mauvais sujets, and no society at all. No, mon ami, it is your duty; and when I tell you I have a very charming young person in my eye—”
“I should like to see her very much. I have no doubt your taste is excellent, and that we should agree in most points,” said Everard, with a laugh.
“Perhaps,” said Madame de Mirfleur, humoring him, “a very charming young person,” she added, seriously, “with, let us say, a hundred and fifty thousand francs. What would you say to that for the dot?”
“Exactly the right sum, I have no doubt—if I had the least notion how much it was,” said Everard, entering into the joke, as he thought; “but, pardon my impatience, the young person herself—”
“Extremely comme il faut,” said the lady, very gravely. “You may be sure I should not think of proposing any one who was not of good family; noble, of course; that is what you call gentlefolks—you English. Young—at the most charming age indeed—not too young to be a companion, nor too old to adapt herself to your wishes. A delightful disposition, lively—a little impetuous, perhaps.”
“Why this is a paragon!” said Everard, beginning to feel a slight uneasiness. He had not yet a notion whom she meant; but a suspicion that this was no joke, but earnest, began to steal over his mind: he was infinitely amused; but notwithstanding his curiosity and relish of the fun, was too honorable and delicate not to be a little afraid of letting it go too far. “She must be ugly to make up for so many virtues; otherwise how could I hope that such a bundle of excellence would even look at me?”
“On the contrary, there are many people who think her pretty,” said Madame de Mirfleur; “perhaps I am not quite qualified to judge. She has charming bright eyes, good hair, good teeth, a good figure, and, I think I may say, a very favorable disposition, Monsieur Everard, toward you.”
“Good heavens!” cried the young man; and he blushed hotly, and made an endeavor to change the subject. “I wonder if this Kanderthal is quite the place for Herbert,” he said hastily; “don’t you think there is a want of air? My own opinion is that he would be better on higher ground.”
“Yes, probably,” said Madame de Mirfleur, smiling. “Ah, Monsieur Everard, you are afraid; but do not shrink so, I will not harm you. You are very droll, you English—what you call prude. I will not frighten you any more; but I have a regard for you, and I should like to marry you all the same.”
“You do me too much honor,” said Everard, taking off his hat and making his best bow. Thus he tried to carry off his embarrassment; and Madame de Mirfleur did not want any further indication that she had gone far enough, but stopped instantly, and began to talk to him with all the ease of her nation about a hundred other subjects, so that he half forgot this assault upon him, or thought he had mistaken, and that it was merely her French way. She was so lively and amusing, indeed, that she completely reassured him, and brought him back to the inn in the best of humors with her and with himself. Reine was standing on the balcony as they came up, and her face brightened as he looked up and waved his hand to her. “It works,” Madame de Mirfleur said to herself; but even she felt that for a beginning she had said quite enough.