“And serve the wretches right.”

“Yes; but for my own sake I don’t choose to marry a woman that loves any other man.  So tell me the plain truth; come.”

Rose turned chill in her inside.  “I have no lover,” she stammered.  “I have a young fool that comes and teases me:  but it is no secret.  He is away, but why? he is on a sickbed, poor little fellow!”

“But your sister?  She could not have a lover unknown to you.”

“I defy her.  No, sir; I have not seen her speak three words to any young man except Monsieur Riviere this three years past.”

“That is enough;” and he tore the letter quietly to atoms.

Then Rose saw she could afford a little more candor.  “Understand me; I can’t speak of what happened when I was a child.  But if ever she had a girlish attachment, he has not followed it up, or surely I should have seen something of him all these years.”

“Of course.  Oh! as for flirtations, let them pass:  a lovely girl does not grow up without one or two whispering some nonsense into her ear.  Why, I myself should have flirted no doubt; but I never had the time.  Bonaparte gives you time to eat and drink, but not to sleep or flirt, and that reminds me I have fifty miles to ride, so good-by, sister-in-law, eh?”

“Adieu, brother-in-law.”

Left alone, Rose had some misgivings.  She had equivocated with one whose upright, candid nature ought to have protected him:  but an enemy had accused Josephine; and it came so natural to shield her.  “Did he really think I would expose my own sister?” said she to herself, angrily.  Was not this anger secret self-discontent?

“Well, love,” said Josephine, demurely, “have you dismissed him?”

“No.”

Josephine smiled feebly.  “It is easy to say ‘say no;’ but it is not so easy to say ‘no,’ especially when you feel you ought to say ‘yes,’ and have no wish either way except to give pleasure to others.”

“But I am not such skim milk as all that,” replied Rose:  “I have always a strong wish where you are concerned, and your happiness.  I hesitated whilst I was in doubt, but I doubt no longer:  I have had a long talk with him.  He has shown me his whole heart:  he is the best, the noblest of creatures:  he has no littleness or meanness.  And then he is a thorough man; I know that by his being the very opposite of a woman in his ways.  Now you are a thorough woman, and so you will suit one another to a T. I have decided:  so no more doubts, love; no more tears; no more disputes.  We are all of one mind, and I do think I have secured your happiness.  It will not come in a day, perhaps, but it will come.  So then in one little fortnight you marry Monsieur Raynal.”

“What!” said Josephine, “you have actually settled that?”

“Yes.”

“But are you sure I can make him as happy as he deserves?”

“Positive.”

“I think so too; still”—­