ect, with as much melancholy as I please, upon the bargain that is
being concluded behind me.

Night has closed in; it has been necessary to light the lamps.

It is ten o'clock when all is finally settled, and M. Kangourou comes to
tell me:

"All is arranged, Monsieur: her parents will give her up for twenty
dollars a month--the same price as Mademoiselle Jasmin."

On hearing this, I am possessed suddenly with extreme vexation that I
should have made up my mind so quickly to link myself in ever so fleeting
and transient a manner with this little creature, and dwell with her in
this isolated house.

We return to the room; she is the centre of the circle and seated; and
they have placed the aigrette of flowers in her hair. There is actually
some expression in her glance, and I am almost persuaded that she--this
one--thinks.

Yves is astonished at her modest attitude, at her little timid airs of a
young girl on the verge of matrimony; he had imagined nothing like it in
such a connection as this, nor I either, I must confess.

"She is really very pretty, brother," said he; "very pretty, take my word
for it!"

These good folks, their customs, this scene, strike him dumb with
astonishment; he can not get over it, and remains in a maze. "Oh! this is
too much," he says, and the idea of writing a long letter to his wife at
Toulven, describing it all, diverts him greatly.

Chrysantheme and I join hands. Yves, too, advances and touches the dainty
little paw. After all, if I wed her, it is chiefly his fault; I never
should have remarked her without his observation that she was pretty. Who
can tell how this strange arrangement will turn out? Is it a woman or a
doll? Well, time will show.

The families, having lighted their many-colored lanterns swinging at the
ends of slight sticks, prepare to retire with many compliments, bows, and
curtseys. When it is a question of descending the stairs, no one is
willing to go first, and at a given moment, the whole party are again on
all fours, motionless and murmuring polite phrases in undertones.

"Haul back there!" said Yves, laughing, and employing a nautical term
used when there is a stoppage of any kind.

At length they all melt away, descending the stairs with a last buzzing
accompaniment of civilities and polite phrases finished from one step to
another in voices which gradually die away. He and I remain alone in the
unfriendly, empty apartment, where the mats are still lit