"Why, what does it matter to me who were her parents. She is a treasure in herself."
"And you will go to live with her far from Paris—far from everyone?"
"Yes, for I shall make it my care to be all-sufficient to her happiness."
"O heavens, Urbain," said Blanche, "You know very well that I never left this room, where I saw no one but Marguerite. If I were to live with you in the country do you suppose that I should wish for anything else?"
"Dear Blanche, unite with me then in obtaining the consent of your protector."
The two young people bent on the barber entreating looks. The latter did not notice them and appeared entirely wrapped in his reflections; at last, all of a sudden, he stopped before Urbain, and said, in a curt tone,—
"Blanche is yours."
"Can it be?" cried the young bachelor, in a delirium of happiness. "Blanche, do you hear? He consents to our union."
"Oh, my dear friend, how much I thank you."
And the two lovers fell on their knees before Touquet, their eyes bathed with tears of pleasure and gratitude.