The marquis was not guilty of this folly.
"Yes, she is very beautiful," said he.
This apparent frankness disconcerted Mlle.

Blanche a trifle; and it was with an air of hypocritical compassion that she murmured: "Poor girl! What will become of her?
Here is her father, reduced to delving in the ground." "Oh! you exaggerate, Mademoiselle; my father will always preserve Lacheneur from anything of that kind." "Of course--I might have known that--but where will he find a husband for Marie-Anne ?" "One has been found already.

I understand that she is to marry a youth in the neighborhood, who has some property--a certain Chanlouineau." The artless school-girl was more cunning than the marquis.

She had satisfied herself that she had just grounds for her suspicions; and she experienced a certain anger on finding him so well informed in regard to everything that concerned Mlle.

Lacheneur.
"And do you believe that this is the husband of whom she had dreamed?
Ah, well! God grant that she may be happy; for we were very fond of her, very--were we not, Aunt Medea ?" Aunt Medea was the old lady seated beside Mlle.