declare himself to her
in a frank conversation. Their intimate friendship, and the discretion
and good sense of both, justified him in taking this step. And he ended,
smiling, looking into her eyes:

"I assure you, Clotilde, that it is the most reasonable of
_denouements_. You know that I have loved you for a long time. I have a
profound affection and esteem for you. That alone might perhaps not be
sufficient, but, in addition, we understand each other perfectly, and we
should be very happy together, I am convinced of it."

She did not cast down her eyes; she, too, looked at him frankly, with a
friendly smile. He was, in truth, very handsome, in his vigorous young
manhood.

"Why do you not marry Mlle. Leveque, the lawyer's daughter?" she asked.
"She is prettier and richer than I am, and I know that she would gladly
accept you. My dear friend, I fear that you are committing a folly in
choosing me."

He did not grow impatient, seeming still convinced of the wisdom of his
determination.

"But I do not love Mlle. Leveque, and I do love you. Besides, I have
considered everything, and I repeat that I know very well what I am
about. Say yes; you can take no better course."

Then she grew very serious, and a shadow passed over her face, the
shadow of those reflections, of those almost unconscious inward
struggles, which kept her silent for days at a time. She did not see
clearly yet, she still struggled against herself, and she wished to
wait.

"Well, my friend, since you are really serious, do not ask me to give
you an answer to-day; grant me a few weeks longer. Master is indeed very
ill. I am greatly troubled about him; and you would not like to owe my
consent to a hasty impulse. I assure you, for my part, that I have a
great deal of affection for you, but it would be wrong to decide at this
moment; the house is too unhappy. It is agreed, is it not? I will not
make you wait long."

And to change the conversation she added:

"Yes, I am uneasy about master. I wished to see you, in order to tell
you so. The other day I surprised him weeping violently, and I am
certain the fear of becoming mad haunts him. The day before yesterday,
when you were talking to him, I saw that you were examining him. Tell me
frankly, what do you think of his condition? Is he in any danger?"

"Not the slightest!" exclaimed Dr. Ramond. "His system is a little out
of order, that is all. How can a man of his ability, who has made so
close a s