“My aunt was right; it would have been more proper for me to convey to
you through M. Elgin what I want to say. But I have the independence
of all the girls of my country; and, when my interests are at stake, I
trust no one but myself.”
She was bewitching in her ingenuousness as she uttered these words with
the air of a little child who looks cunning, and determined to undertake
something that appears quite formidable.
“I am told that my dear count has been to see you this afternoon,” she
continued, “and you have heard that in less than a month I shall be the
Countess Ville-Handry?”
Daniel was surprised. In less than a month! What could be done in so
little time?
“Now, sir,” continued Miss Brandon, “I wish to hear from your own lips
whether you see--any--objections to this match.”
She spoke so frankly, that it was evident she was utterly unconscious of
that article in the code of social laws which prescribes that a French
girl must never mention the word “marriage” without blushing to the
roots of her hair. Daniel, on the contrary, was terribly embarrassed.
“I confess,” he replied with much hesitation, “that I do not understand,
that I cannot possibly explain to myself, why you do me the honor”--
“To consult you? Pardon me; I think you understand me perfectly well.
Have they not promised you Miss Ville-Handry’s hand?”
“The count has permitted me to hope”--
“He has pledged his word, sir, under certain conditions. My dear count
has told me every thing. I speak, therefore, to Count Ville-Handry’s
son-in-law, and I repeat, Do you see any objections to this match?”
The question was too precisely put to allow of any prevarication. And
still Daniel was bent upon gaining time, and avoiding any positive
answer. For the first time in his life he said a falsehood; and, turning
crimson all over, he stammered out,--
“I see no objection.”
“Really?”
“Really.”