ved her for little more than three years, and it
was somewhat on her account that he had taken the journey to Russia. In
1856 she was too young to marry, and too rich for an engineer with a
salary of 2,400 francs to properly make pretentions to her hand. Leon,
who was a good mathematician, proposed to himself the following problem:
"Given--one young girl, fifteen and a half years old, with an income of
8,000 francs, and threatened with the inheritance from Mlle. Sambucco
of, say 200,000 more:--to obtain a fortune at least equal to hers within
such a period as will give her time enough to grow up, without leaving
her time enough to become an old maid." He had found the solution in the
Ural mines.

During three long years, he had indirectly corresponded with the beloved
of his heart. All the letters which he wrote to his father or mother,
passed into the hands of Mlle. Sambucco, who did not keep them from
Clementine. Sometimes, indeed, they were read aloud in the family, and
M. Renault was never obliged to omit a phrase, for Leon never wrote
anything which a young girl should not hear. The aunt and the niece had
no other distractions; they lived retired in a little house at the end
of a pretty garden, and received no one but old friends. Clementine,
therefore, deserved but little credit for keeping her heart for Leon.
With the exception of a big colonel of cuirassiers, who sometimes
followed her in her walks, no man had ever made any demonstrations
toward her.

She was very pretty withal, and not so merely to the eyes of her lover,
or of the Renault family, or of the little city where she lived.
Provincial towns are apt to be easily satisfied. They give the
reputation of being a pretty woman or a great man, cheaply; especially
when they are not rich enough in such commodities to show themselves
over particular. In capitals, however, people claim to admire nothing
but absolute merit. I have heard the mayor of a village say, with a
certain pride: "Admit now, that my servant Catherine is right pretty,
for a village of six hundred people!" Clementine was pretty enough to be
admired in a city of eight hundred thousand. Fancy to yourself a little
blonde creole, with black eyes, creamy complexion and dazzling teeth.
Her figure was round and supple as a twig, and was finished off with
dainty hands and pretty Andalusian feet, arched and beautifully rounded.
All her glances were smiles, and all her movements caresses. Add to
this