"My dear, don't get excited."
"How can I help it, when you tell me that you are to be married? Constance, if your uncle is a tyrant, I will carry you off. We will fly together to the ends of the earth! You, you alone, will suffice for my happiness! This very night, if you agree, we will start. What, mademoiselle, you laugh at sight of my despair!"
"Oh! Frédéric, what a hot-headed boy you are!"
"Ah! mademoiselle is pleased to give me lessons in self-restraint! It seems to me that this projected marriage doesn't disturb you much. Is this how you love me?"
"Naughty boy! what a savage reproof! Ah! my dear, because my love is more placid than yours, don't think that it is less strong and deep."
"But this marriage that your uncle has in mind?"
"Suppose it were you, monsieur, to whom he thinks of marrying me?"
Frédéric's features lightened up with a new expression; and Constance put her finger on his lips, saying:
"Hush! not a word, my dear; uncle forbade me to speak—but how can I let you suffer long?"