“She does not know how to love,” thought she.  “Ah! if it were I—­I would give up everything to a man who loved me so.—­To be loved!  —­When, by whom shall I be loved?  That little Monsieur de Soulas only loves my money; if I were poor, he would not even look at me.”

“Rosalie, my child, what are you thinking about?  You are working beyond the outline,” said the Baroness to her daughter, who was making worsted-work slippers for the Baron.

* * * * *

Rosalie spent the winter of 1834-35 torn by secret tumults; but in the spring, in the month of April, when she reached the age of nineteen, she sometimes thought that it would be a fine thing to triumph over a Duchesse d’Argaiolo.  In silence and solitude the prospect of this struggle had fanned her passion and her evil thoughts.  She encouraged her romantic daring by making plan after plan.  Although such characters are an exception, there are, unfortunately, too many Rosalies in the world, and this story contains a moral that ought to serve them as a warning.

In the course of this winter Albert de Savarus had quietly made considerable progress in Besancon.  Confident of success, he now impatiently awaited the dissolution of the Chamber.  Among the men of the moderate party he had won the suffrages of one of the makers of Besancon, a rich contractor, who had very wide influence.

Wherever they settled the Romans took immense pains, and spent enormous sums to have an unlimited supply of good water in every town of their empire.  At Besancon they drank the water from Arcier, a hill at some considerable distance from Besancon.  The town stands in a horseshoe circumscribed by the river Doubs.  Thus, to restore an aqueduct in order to drink the same water that the Romans drank, in a town watered by the Doubs, is one of those absurdities which only succeed in a country place where the most exemplary gravity prevails.  If this whim could be brought home to the hearts of the citizens, it would lead to considerable outlay; and this expenditure would benefit the influential contractor.

Albert Savaron de Savarus opined that the water of the river was good for nothing but to flow under the suspension bridge, and that the only drinkable water was that from Arcier.  Articles were printed in the Review which merely expressed the views of the commercial interest of Besancon.  The nobility and the citizens, the moderates and the legitimists, the government party and the opposition, everybody, in short, was agreed that they must drink the same water as the Romans, and boast of a suspension bridge.  The question of the Arcier water was the order of the day at Besancon.  At Besancon—­as in the matter of the two railways to Versailles—­as for every standing abuse—­there were private interests unconfessed which gave vital force to this idea.  The reasonable folk in opposition to this scheme, who were indeed but few, were regarded as