Raynal tapped his forehead reflectively, and drew forth from memory that he had no instructions whatever to ask her consent.

She colored high, but returned to the charge.

“Is her own consent to be dispensed with too?  She declined the honor, did she not?”

“Of course she did; but this was anticipated in my instructions.  I am to be sure and not take the first two or three refusals.”

“O Josephine, look at that insolent boy:  he has found you out.”

“Insolent boy!” cried Raynal; “why, it is the referee of your own choosing, and as well behaved a lad as ever I saw, and a zealous officer.”

“My kind friends,” put in Josephine with a sweet languor, “I cannot let you quarrel about a straw.”

“It is not about a straw,” said Raynal, “it is about you.”

“The distinction involves a compliment, sir,” said Josephine; then she turned to Rose, “Is it possible you do not see Monsieur Raynal’s strange proposal in its true light? and you so shrewd in general.  He has no personal feeling whatever in this eccentric proceeding:  he wants to make us all happy, especially my mother, without seeming to lay us under too great an obligation.  Surely good-nature was never carried so far before; ha, ha!  Monsieur, I will encumber you with my friendship forever, if you permit me, but farther than that I will not abuse your generosity.”

“Now look here, mademoiselle,” began Raynal bluntly, “I did start with a good motive at first, that there’s no denying.  But, since I have been every day in your company, and seen how good and kind you are to all about you, I have turned selfish; and I say to myself, what a comfort such a wife as you would be to a soldier!  Why, only to have you to write letters home to, would be worth half a fellow’s pay.  Do you know sometimes when I see the fellows writing their letters it gives me a knock here to think I have no one at all to write to.”

Josephine sighed.

“So you see I am not so mighty disinterested.  Now, mademoiselle, you speak so charmingly, I can’t tell what you mean:  can’t tell whether you say ‘no’ because you could never like me, or whether it is out of delicacy, and you only want pressing.  So I say no more at present:  it is a standing offer.  Take a day to consider.  Take two if you like.  I must go to the barracks; good-day.”

“Oh! this must be put an end to at once,” said Rose.

“With all my heart,” replied Josephine; “but how?”

“Come to our mother, and settle that,” said the impetuous sister, and nearly dragged the languid one into the drawing-room.

To their surprise they found the baroness walking up and down the room with unusual alacrity for a person of her years.  She no sooner caught sight of Josephine than she threw her arms open to her with joyful vivacity, and kissed her warmly.  “My love, you have saved us.  I am a happy old woman.  If I had all France to pick from I could not have found a man so worthy of my Josephine.  He is brave, he is handsome, he is young, he is a rising man, he is a good son, and good sons make good husbands—­and—­I shall die at Beaurepaire, shall I not, Madame the Commandante?”