"Can it be mademoiselle? Ah! if it were only true!"
"Why do you say if it were true? I never say what is untrue; but what I feel I say at once. Isn't that natural? And do you think that you can love me also?"
"Can I love you," said Urbain, warmly; then remembering that Marguerite was there, he resumed less forcibly, but with an accent that came from his heart,—
"Yes, yes, mademoiselle, and all my life."
"Oh, it is so nice to have a friend of one's own age," said Blanche, shaking the bachelor's hand. "At least I shall have some one with whom I can laugh and chat. Marguerite likes to talk very well, but she never laughs and then she never talks of anything but magic and the devil. We shall find other things to talk about, shan't we, Ursule?"
"Yes, mademoiselle."
"I know very little about anything; always alone in my room, never going out, though I have a great desire to do so; my protector never comes to chat with me; I receive visits from one man only."
"From a man?" said Urbain, anxiously.
"Yes, my music master. Formerly he made me laugh, now he wearies me, for he always sings the same thing to me."
Urbain breathed more freely, and resumed,—