marriage, why did you speak to me about it?"

"Because you know well that I am not really your father, that I have no
authority over you, that you are free."

"Indeed, am I free?" answered Bathilde, laughing.

"Free as air."

"Well, then, if I am free, I refuse."

"Diable! I am highly satisfied," said Buvat; "but how shall I tell it to
Madame Denis?"

"How? Tell her that I am too young, that I do not wish to marry, that I
want to stop with you always."

"Come to dinner," said Buvat, "perhaps a bright idea will strike me when
I am eating. It is odd! my appetite has come back all of a sudden. Just
now I thought I could not swallow a drop of water. Now I could drink the
Seine dry."

Buvat drank like a Suisse, and ate like an ogre; but, in spite of this
infraction of his ordinary habits, no bright idea came to his aid; so
that he was obliged to tell Madame Denis openly that Bathilde was very
much honored by her selection, but that she did not wish to marry.

This unexpected response perfectly dumfounded Madame Denis, who had
never imagined that a poor little orphan like Bathilde could refuse so
brilliant a match as her son; consequently she answered very sharply
that every one was free to act for themselves, and that, if
Mademoiselle Bathilde chose to be an old maid, she was perfectly
welcome.

But when she reflected on this refusal, which her maternal pride could
not understand, all the old calumnies which she had heard about the
young girl and her guardian returned to her mind; and as she was in a
disposition to believe them, she made no further doubt that they were
true, and when she transmitted their beautiful neighbor's answer to
Boniface, she said, to console him for this matrimonial disappointment,
that it was very lucky that she had refused, since, if she had accepted,
in consequence of what she had learned, she could not have allowed such
a marriage to be concluded.

Madame Denis thought it unsuited to her dignity that after so
humiliating a refusal her son should continue to inhabit the room
opposite Bathilde's, so she gave him one on the ground floor, and
announced that his old one was to let.

A week after, as M. Boniface, to revenge himself on Bathilde, was
teasing Mirza, who was standing in the doorway, not thinking it fine
enough to trust her little white feet out of doors, Mirza, whom the
habit of being fed had made very petulant, darted out on M. Boniface,
and bit him cruelly in the calf.