"He is considered an agreeable gentleman, who adores pleasure and passes his life in merrymaking. He is generous to prodigality; he rewards his esquire when he has invented some pleasant occupation for his time. Cards, dancing, music, the table, horses—these are what he must have every day."
"The man must be insufferable with his high spirits!—The Baron d'Arcelle?"
"He is no longer young, but he is enormously rich! He is a great stickler for etiquette; he dismissed his coachman one day because he allowed the carriage of a farmer of the salt tax to pass him."
"They who ascribe so much importance to little things are incapable of great things!—The Marquis de Santoval?"
"Oh! there is a man in whose glance there is something that inspires fear! He has a handsome face; but such a black beard, and eyes that shine with a smoldering fire, and heavy eyebrows that almost join. His servants say that he is very just to them, but that he punishes inexorably the slightest fault. He is a widower; his first wife was very pretty, and Monsieur de Santoval is terribly jealous; they say that he did not make her happy. He adores the chase, and passes a large part of the year on his estates, hunting wolves."
"Enough, enough! my choice is made!—Go, Miretta, see if my aunt has finished her siesta."
Miretta returned and informed her mistress that Madame de Ravenelle was quite ready to listen to her. So Valentine left her apartment and went to her aunt. After saluting her with great gravity, she said:
"Madame, I have decided at last to take a husband; it is time for me to occupy my rightful place in society."
"Ah! you have decided, niece? Very good! Mon Dieu! what a multitude of events for a single day!—Well, Valentine, it only remains to make a choice among all the noble suitors who have asked for your hand."
"My choice is made, aunt."