‘Yes, Uncle Michel.’

’But why, my dear?  How are you to do better?  Perhaps I, or your aunt, should have spoken to you first, and told you that we thought well of the match.’

’It wasn’t that, uncle.  I knew you thought well of it; or, at least, I believed that you did.’

‘And what is your objection, Marie?’

‘I don’t object to M. Urmand, uncle;—­at least, not particularly.’

’But he says you do object.  You would not accept him when he offered himself.’

‘No; I did not accept him.’

‘But you will, my dear,—­if he comes again?’

‘No, uncle.’

‘And why not?  Is he not a good young man?’

‘O, yes,—­that is, I daresay.’

’And he has a good business.  I do not know what more you could expect.’

‘I expect nothing, uncle,—­except not to go away from you.’

’Ah,—­but you must go away from me.  I should be very wrong, and so would your aunt, to let you remain here till you lose your good looks, and become an old woman on our hands.  You are a pretty girl, Marie, and fit to be any man’s wife, and you ought to take a husband.  I am quite in earnest now, my dear; and I speak altogether for your own welfare.’

’I know you are in earnest, and I know that you speak for my welfare.’

’Well;—­well;—­what then?  Of course, it is only reasonable that you should be married some day.  Here is a young man in a better way of business than any man, old or young, that comes into Granpere.  He has a house in Basle, and money to put in it whatever you want.  And for the matter of that, Marie, my niece shall not go away from me empty-handed.’

She drew herself closer to him and took hold of his arm and pressed it, and looked up into his face.

‘I brought nothing with me,’ she said, ’and I want to take nothing away.’

‘Is that it?’ he said, speaking rapidly.  ’Let me tell you then, my girl, that you shall have nothing but your earnings,—­your fair earnings.  Don’t you take trouble about that.  Urmand and I will settle that between us, and I will go bail there shall be no unpleasant words.  As I said before, my girl sha’n’t leave my house empty-handed; but, Lord bless you, he would only be too happy to take you in your petticoat, just as you are.  I never saw a fellow more in love with a girl.  Come, Marie, you need not mind saying the word to me, though you could not bring yourself to say it to him.’

‘I can’t say that word, uncle, either to you or to him.’

‘And why the devil not?’ said Michel Voss, who was beginning to be tired of being eloquent.

‘I would rather stay at home with you and my aunt.’

‘O, bother!’

’Some girls stay at home always.  All girls do not get married.  I don’t want to be taken to Basle.’

‘This is all nonsense,’ said Michel, getting up.  ’If you’re a good girl, you will do as you are told.’