“Faith! that is so,” said the old man. “If I had now as much as I had formerly, I should soon seek a wife for him.”

“I have concerned myself,” said the curé, “because I desire the welfare and prosperity of your son, and find that the daughter of such an one (that is to say his ladylove) would exactly suit him. She is pretty and virtuous, and her father is well off, and, as I know, would give some assistance, and—which is no small matter—is a wise man of good counsel, and a friend to whom you and your son could have recourse. What do you say?”

“Certainly,” said the good man, “if it please God that my son should be fortunate enough to be allied to such a good family; and if I thought that he could anyhow succeed in that, I would get together what money I could, and would go round to all my friends, for I am sure that he could never find anyone more suitable.”

“I have not chosen badly then,” said the curé. “And what would you say if I spoke about this matter to her father, and conducted it to its desired end, and, moreover, lent you twenty francs for a certain period that we could arrange?”

“By my oath, monsieur le curé,” said the good man, “you offer me more than I deserve. If you did this, you would render a great service to me and mine.”

“Truly,” answered the curé, “I have not said anything that I do not mean to perform; so be of good cheer, for I hope to see this matter at an end.”

To shorten matters, the curé, hoping to have the woman when once she was married, arranged the matter so well that, with the twenty francs he lent, the marriage was settled, and the wedding day arrived.

Now it is the custom that the bride and bridegroom confess on that day. The bridegroom came first, and when he had finished, he withdrew to a little distance saying his orisons and his paternosters. Then came the bride, who knelt down before the curé and confessed. When she had said all she had to say, he spoke to her in turn, and so loudly, that the bridegroom, who was not far off, heard every word, and said,

“My dear, I beg you to remember now the promise you formerly made me. You promised me that when you were married that I should ride you; and now you are married, thank God, by my means and endeavours, and through the money that I have lent.”

“Monsieur le curé,” she said, “have no fear but what I will keep the promise I have made, if God so please.”