it is a long, long distance from Brittany! This is good
news for you; but there are two persons to whom it will cause not a
little pain."

"To who--o--om?" inquired Gaston, with suppressed agitation.

"To my cousin Bertha, and to me."

"Mademoiselle Ber--er--ertha! Will _she_ heed my absence?
She--she--she,--will she?" asked Gaston, confusedly.

"Yes--but take care; if you let me see how deeply that idea affects you,
you will fail to play the diplomat in disguising your thoughts, for I
shall divine your secret."

"My secret,--what--what secret? What is it you divine? What do you
imagine? I mean."

"That you love Bertha,--love her as she deserves to be loved?"

"I? I?" replied M. de Bois, trying to speak calmly; but, finding the
attempt in vain, he burst forth: "Yes, it is but too true; I love her
with my whole soul; I love her passionately; love her despairingly,--ay,
_despairingly_!"

"And why _despairingly_?"

"Alas! she is so rich!" he answered, in a tone of chagrin.

"True, she is encumbered with a large and _un_-encumbered estate."

"A great misfortune for me!" sighed Gaston.

"A misfortune which you cannot help, and which Bertha will never
remember when she bestows her heart upon one who is worthy of the gift."

"How can she ever deem _me_ worthy? Even if I succeed in making myself a
name,--a position; even if I become all that you have caused me to dream
of being,--this dreadful imped--ed--ediment, this stammering which
renders me ridiculous in the eyes of every one, in her eyes even,
will"--

"Your stammering is only the effect of timidity," answered Madeleine,
soothingly. "Believe me, it is nothing more; as you overcome your
diffidence and gain self-possession, you will find that it disappears.
For instance, you have been talking to me for some time with ease and
fluency."

"To _you_, ah, yes; with _you_ I am always at my ease,--I have always
confidence. It is not difficult to talk to one for whom I have so much
affection,--_so much_, and yet not _too much_."

"That proves fluent speech possible."

"But to any one else, if I venture to open my heart, I hesitate,--I get
troubled,--I--I stammer,--I make myself ridic--ic--iculous!"

"Not at all."

"But I do," reiterated Gaston, warmly. "Fancy a man saying to a woman
he adores, yet in whose presence he trembles like a school-boy, or a
culprit, 'I--I--I--lo--ov--ov--ove you!'"

"The fact is," began Madeleine, laughing good-naturedly.

"_T