"Oh! If you only knew him! Such a foolish man is not easily rebuffed. And I at least owe him thanks for having amused me, while you left me all this time to grow melancholy."
"He has--? You've received him here--allowed him to visit you more than once?"
"Why shouldn't I? If you should see him, you would understand that no one can be less dangerous than this adorer. You know how fire-proof I am; why I could spend a hundred years with such a lover, and my heart would never beat one bit the faster! To be sure, at first, when, Heaven knows how, he found me out and entered unannounced, I was extremely angry at the intrusion and received him so coldly that he remained standing at the door like a penitent and could not utter a word of the apology which he had prepared. I said things to which no one else would have submitted quietly. But he--at first he seemed utterly crushed, and then he suddenly threw himself at my feet and faltered out that he was a lost man, if I would not have compassion on him; that he had done everything to prove how honorable his intentions were; he had forced his mother, a very proud lady, to consent to receive me as her daughter-in-law; his aristocratic relatives had caused him a great deal of trouble, but he had at last succeeded in removing every obstacle from the way, and now I rejected him and refused him all hope. And then, still kneeling at my feet, he poured forth such a torrent of vows and protestations, that I really didn't know whether to laugh at or to pity him."
"Toinette! And you allowed him the hope--"
"I? If you think that you don't know me! When I found the torrent of words continued, all desire either to laugh or pity vanished, and I very positively and curtly declared that I had not the slightest inclination to become his wife, that if this would cause him unhappiness, I was very sorry, but that I could not accept the proposals of the first eccentric man I met, at the expense of my whole life. This was my final answer."
"And he still has the effrontery to annoy you? And you were yielding enough--"
"Unfortunately, my friend, I'm much more kind-hearted than you suppose. The first time he returned after this, as I thought, final dismissal, you could not have helped laughing yourself at the penitent manner, in which he sneaked into the room after little Jean. I received him only on the condition that not a word should be said about admiration, love, or marriage. As for the rest why should I, a ci-devant duchess, deny myself so cheap a pleasure as keeping a count for my court fool? I was so lonely, so out of spirits. And as I said before, you can't imagine anything more comical than his face and manner. He actually has no face at all; when he's not here, it's impossible to remember how he really looks, his countenance is exactly like those on the tailor's fashion plates, his nose straight up and down, his month straight across, and his whiskers just such as grow on the faces of I don't know how many young noblemen. But now imagine this commonplace physiognomy beautified by perpetual lines of grief, or rather by the attempt to look utterly miserable, and you must perceive that there could be no more amusing contrast. I abuse him as much as I can, say the most impertinent things, refuse to even allow him to kiss the tip of my slipper, but have never succeeded in rousing him from his devout submission and adoration, I shouldn't be the daughter of a poor ballet-dancer and a vain, idle, tolerably desperate creature, if such an aristocratic slave didn't divert me."
"And how long do you propose to continue this delightful game?" asked Edwin, in a somewhat irritated tone.
Instead of answering, Toinette opened a box and took out several large photographs. "These are views of his castle," said she. "Here, as it appears on the heights above the forests; here's the courtyard, with the carriage waiting and the young count's saddle-horse standing close by--I call him young, although one never thinks of his age, for can a man who never really experiences anything grow old?--And here are three views of the interior: the dining-hall, the conservatory, and the boudoir for the young countess. It can't be denied that he, or at least his upholsterer, has good taste, but the master of the house is an unwelcome addition to all this magnificence. I told him so to his face. His only answer was a sigh."
"And how long is this proceeding to continue?" Edwin repeated.