“I will tell you myself,” says the curate.

“You will not,” she exclaims, knitting her beautiful eyebrows.  “If you do I will go away.”

“I defy you to do it, my dear.  Do you know what she said, sir, when she saw you on the wharf?  ’Here is a very handsome young man who is looking at me, and would not be sorry to be with us.’  And when she saw that the gondoliers were putting back for you to embark she was delighted.”

While the uncle was speaking to me, the indignant niece was slapping him on the shoulder.

“Why are you angry, lovely Christine, at my hearing that you liked my appearance, when I am so glad to let you know how truly charming I think you?”

“You are glad for a moment.  Oh!  I know the Venetians thoroughly now.  They have all told me that they were charmed with me, and not one of those I would have liked ever made a declaration to me.”

“What sort of declaration did you want?”

“There’s only one sort for me, sir; the declaration leading to a good marriage in church, in the sight of all men.  Yet we remained a fortnight in Venice; did we not, uncle?”

“This girl,” said the uncle, “is a good match, for she possesses three thousand crowns.  She has always said that she would marry only a Venetian, and I have accompanied her to Venice to give her an opportunity of being known.  A worthy woman gave us hospitality for a fortnight, and has presented my niece in several houses where she made the acquaintance of marriageable young men, but those who pleased her would not hear of marriage, and those who would have been glad to marry her did not take her fancy.”

“But do you imagine, reverend sir, that marriages can be made like omelets?  A fortnight in Venice, that is nothing; you ought to live there at least six months.  Now, for instance, I think your niece sweetly pretty, and I should consider myself fortunate if the wife whom God intends for me were like her, but, even if she offered me now a dowry of fifty thousand crowns on condition that our wedding takes place immediately, I would refuse her.  A prudent young man wants to know the character of a girl before he marries her, for it is neither money nor beauty which can ensure happiness in married life.”

“What do you mean by character?” asked Christine; “is it a beautiful hand-writing?”

“No, my dear.  I mean the qualities of the mind and the heart.  I shall most likely get married sometime, and I have been looking for a wife for the last three years, but I am still looking in vain.  I have known several young girls almost as lovely as you are, and all with a good marriage portion, but after an acquaintance of two or three months I found out that they could not make me happy.”

“In what were they deficient?”

“Well, I will tell you, because you are not acquainted with them, and there can be no indiscretion on my part.  One whom I certainly would have married, for I loved her dearly, was extremely vain.  She would have ruined me in fashionable clothes and by her love for luxuries.  Fancy! she was in the habit of paying one sequin every month to the hair-dresser, and as much at least for pomatum and perfumes.”