was not very great, then?"

"It sprang up quickly, and you, Veronique, could have made it increase to
a gigantic size."

She said nothing, but bit her lip, wished me good night and left the
room. I went to bed expecting a visit from Annette, but I waited in vain.
When I rang the next morning the dear girl appeared looking rather sad. I
asked her the reason.

"Because my sister is ill, and spent the whole night in writing," said
she.

Thus I learnt the reason of her not having paid me a visit.

"Do you know what she was writing about?"

"Oh, no! She does not tell me that kind of thing, but here is a letter
for you."

I read through the long and well-composed letter, but as it bore marks of
craft and dissimulation it made me laugh. After several remarks of no
consequence she said that she had repulsed me because she loved me so
much and that she was afraid that if she satisfied my fancy she might
lose me.

"I will be wholly yours," she added, "if you will give me the position
which Rosalie enjoyed. I will travel in your company, but you must give
me a document, which M. de Grimaldi will sign as a witness, in which you
must engage to marry me in a year, and to give me a portion of fifty
thousand francs; and if at the end of a year you do not wish to marry me,
that sum to be at my absolute disposal."

She stipulated also that if she became a mother in the course of a year
the child should be hers in the event of our separating. On these
conditions she would become my mistress, and would have for me all
possible love and kindness.

This proposal, cleverly conceived, but foolishly communicated to me,
shewed me that Veronique had not the talent of duping others. I saw
directly that M. de Grimaldi had nothing to do with it, and I felt sure
that he would laugh when I told him the story.

Annette soon came back with the chocolate, and told me that her sister
hoped I would answer her letter.

"Yes, dear," said I, "I will answer her when I get up."

I took my chocolate, put on my dressing-gown, and went to Veronique's
room. I found her sitting up in bed in a negligent attire that might have
attracted me if her letter had not deprived her of my good opinion. I sat
on the bed, gave her back the letter, and said,--

"Why write, when we can talk the matter over?"

"Because one is often more at ease in writing than in speaking."

"In diplomacy and business that will pass, but not in love. Love makes no
conditions.