Nathalie loved Armand; but she would not yield too easily. She sent for the captain.
“If you really love me—”
“Ah, can you doubt it?”
“Hush! do not interrupt me. If you really love me, you will give me one proof of it.”
“Anything you ask. I swear—”
“No, you must never swear any more; and, one thing more, you must never smoke. I detest the smell of tobacco, and I will not have a husband who smokes.”
Armand sighed, and promised.
The first months of their marriage passed smoothly, but sometimes Armand became thoughtful, restless, and grave. After some time, these fits of sadness became more frequent.
“What is the matter?” asked Nathalie one day, on seeing him stamp with impatience. “Why are you so irritable?”
“Nothing—nothing at all!” replied the captain, as if ashamed of his ill humor.