XLIX
THE SECOND TIME
Fanny was sitting by the fire, in a dainty morning gown; for she was a woman who never allowed herself to be surprised in déshabillé; but her expression was cold and stern, as of a person who had made up her mind and was prepared for a rupture.
"I have come a little early, I fear," said Gustave, taking a seat, and seeking in vain an affable smile on the widow's features; "but you will surely forgive my impatience, I was so anxious to see you. I had almost no chance to speak to you last night, and I had so many things to say!"
"I, too, wished to speak with you, monsieur. I, too, have several things to say to you."
"Monsieur! What! you call me monsieur? What does that mean?"
"In heaven's name, let us not quibble over words. If I call you monsieur now, I do so in consequence of certain reflections I have made since yesterday. Do you know that I don't like to be followed, spied upon; that a jealous man is an unendurable creature to me?"
"Ah! you are trying to quarrel with me, madame?"
"No, I am not; but I am telling you frankly the subject of my reflections; and the result of those reflections is——"
"Is what? go on, madame."
"Is that I am afraid that I shall not make you happy, Gustave. I am naturally giddy, frivolous,—but I cannot change,—and my temperament would not harmonize at all with yours. Consequently we shall do much better not to marry. Oh! I have come to this decision solely in my solicitude for your happiness."