Chevalier d'Harmental. This conduct of Bathilde, in
which it was impossible to see anything but supreme modesty, only
augmented the passion of her neighbor. At his request, his mother went
again to the Rue Pagevin, and to the Rue des Orties, where she had
learned, from an old woman, something of the death-scene we have
related, and in which Buvat played so noble a part. She had forgotten
the names, and she only remembered that the father was a handsome young
officer, who had been killed in Spain, and that the mother was a
charming young woman, who had died of grief and poverty.

Boniface also had been in search of news, and had learned from his
employer, who was a friend of Buvat's notary, that every year, for six
years past, five hundred francs had been deposited with him in
Bathilde's name, which, with the interest, formed a little capital of
seven or eight thousand francs. This was not much for Boniface, who, as
his mother said, would have three thousand francs a year, but at least
it showed that Bathilde was not destitute. At the end of a month, during
which time Madame Denis's friendship for Bathilde did not diminish,
seeing that her son's love greatly increased, she determined to ask her
hand for him. One afternoon, as Buvat returned from business, Madame
Denis waited for him at her door, and made a sign to him that she had
something to say to him. Buvat followed her politely into her room, of
which she closed the door, that she might not be interrupted; and when
Buvat was seated, she asked for the hand of Bathilde for her son.

Buvat was quite bewildered. It had never entered his mind that Bathilde
might marry. Life without Bathilde appeared so impossible a thing that
he changed color at the bare idea. Madame Denis did not fail to remark
the strange effect that her request had produced on Buvat. She would not
even allow him to think it had passed unnoticed. She offered him the
bottle of salts which she always kept on the chimney-piece, that she
might repeat three or four times a week that her nerves were very
sensitive.

Buvat, instead of simply smelling the salts from a reasonable distance,
put it close up under his nose. The effect was rapid. He bounded to his
feet, as if the angel of Habakkuk had taken him by the hair. He sneezed
for about ten minutes; then, having regained his senses, he said that he
understood the honorable proposal made for Bathilde, but that he was
only her guardian: that he would tell h