Natalie was now in her nineteenth year, but no proposal of marriage had as yet reached her mother’s ear.  Accustomed to gratify her fancies, Mademoiselle Evangelista wore cashmeres and jewels, and lived in a style of luxury which alarmed all speculative suitors in a region and at a period when sons were as calculating as their parents.  The fatal remark, “None but a prince can afford to marry Mademoiselle Evangelista,” circulated among the salons and the cliques.  Mothers of families, dowagers who had granddaughters to establish, young girls jealous of Natalie, whose elegance and tyrannical beauty annoyed them, took pains to envenom this opinion with treacherous remarks.  When they heard a possible suitor say with ecstatic admiration, as Natalie entered a ball-room, “Heavens, how beautiful she is!” “Yes,” the mammas would answer, “but expensive.”  If some new-comer thought Mademoiselle Evangelista bewitching and said to a marriageable man that he couldn’t do it better, “Who would be bold enough,” some woman would reply, “to marry a girl whose mother gives her a thousand francs a month for her toilet,—­a girl who has horses and a maid of her own, and wears laces?  Yes, her ‘peignoirs’ are trimmed with mechlin.  The price of her washing would support the household of a clerk.  She wears pelerines in the morning which actually cost six francs to get up.”

These, and other speeches said occasionally in the form of praise extinguished the desires that some men might have had to marry the beautiful Spanish girl.  Queen of every ball, accustomed to flattery, “blasee” with the smiles and the admiration which followed her every step, Natalie, nevertheless, knew nothing of life.  She lived as the bird which flies, as the flower that blooms, finding every one about her eager to do her will.  She was ignorant of the price of things; she knew neither the value of money, nor whence it came, how it should be managed, and how spent.  Possibly she thought that every household had cooks and coachmen, lady’s-maids and footmen, as the fields have hay and the trees their fruits.  To her, beggars and paupers, fallen trees and waste lands seemed in the same category.  Pampered and petted as her mother’s hope, no fatigue was allowed to spoil her pleasure.  Thus she bounded through life as a courser on his steppe, unbridled and unshod.

Six month’s after Paul’s arrival the Pink of Fashion and the Queen of Balls met in presence of the highest society of the town of Bordeaux.  The two flowers looked at each other with apparent coldness, and mutually thought each other charming.  Interested in watching the effects of the meeting, Madame Evangelista divined in the expression of Paul’s eyes the feelings within him, and she muttered to herself, “He will be my son-in-law.”  Paul, on the other hand, said to himself, as he looked at Natalie, “She will be my wife.”