of introspection, how unimportant a person she was herself, she began to think that the attempt might be made.  ‘I suppose it had better be so,’ she had said.  What was she that she should stand in the way of so many wishes?  As she had worked for her bread in her uncle’s house at Granpere, so would she work for her bread in her husband’s house at Basle.  No doubt there were other things to be joined to her work,—­ things the thought of which dismayed her.  She had fought against them for a while; but, after all, what was she, that she should trouble the world by fighting?  When she got to Basle she would endeavour to see that the bread should rise there, and the wine be sufficient, and the supper such as her husband might wish it to be.

Was it not the manifest duty of every girl to act after this fashion?  Were not all marriages so arranged in the world around her?  Among the Protestants of Alsace, as she knew, there was some greater latitude of choice than was ever allowed by the stricter discipline of Roman Catholic education.  But then she was a Roman Catholic, as was her aunt; and she was too proud and too grateful to claim any peculiar exemption from the Protestantism of her uncle.  She had resolved during those early hours of the morning that ’it had better be so.’  She thought that she could go through with it all, if only they would not tease her, and ask her to wear her Sunday frock, and force her to sit down with them at table.  Let them settle the day—­with a word or two thrown in by herself to increase the distance—­and she would be absolutely submissive, on condition that nothing should be required of her till the day should come.  There would be a bad week or two then while she was being carried off to her new home; but she had looked forward and had told herself that she would fill her mind with the care of one man’s house, as she had hitherto filled it with the care of the house of another man.

‘So it is all right,’ said her aunt, rushing up to her with warm congratulations, ready to flatter her, prone to admire her.  It would be something to have a niece married to Adrian Urmand, the successful young merchant of Basle.  Marie Bromar was already in her aunt’s eyes something different from her former self.

‘I hope so, aunt.’

‘Hope so; but it is so, you have accepted him?’

‘I hope it is right, I mean.’

‘Of course it is right’ said Madame Voss.  ’How can it be wrong for a girl to accept the man whom all her friends wish her to marry?  It must be right.  And your uncle will be so happy.’

‘Dear uncle!’

’Yes, indeed.  He has been so good; and it has made me wretched to see that he has been disturbed.  He has been as anxious that you should be settled well, as though you had been his own.  And this will be to be settled well.  I am told that M. Urmand’s house is one of those which look down upon the river from near the church; the very best position in all the town.  And it is full of everything, they say.  His father spared nothing for furniture when he was married.  And they say that his mother’s linen was quite a sight to be seen.  And then, Marie, everybody acknowledges that he is such a nice-looking young man!’