"As soon as I am settled in my little home," continued Marguerite, "I will have a visit from my brother; this brother,--it is you, for you must remain ostensibly in Paris, from time to time you must show yourself at the Opéra, in society; then quickly leaving these brilliant but tiresome scenes, you will come quietly here, every day, and spend long hours with your well-beloved sister, all the time that you can spare from your mundane apparitions. Well, Arthur, what have you to say to this wild scheme, this folly? Will it not be charming? Oh, my friend, if you only knew the childish joy I have promised myself in such an existence, when so intimately shared by you, what happiness we will find in this obscurity, this mystery, in our long walks, in our evenings, spent far from an importunate and jealous world, in these long days which will belong to us alone, and which we will fill with such varied pleasures! "For you must know, Arthur, that we are to have a salon, where we will be able to paint, and make music, where you will find the books you care for, and I, those that I like. The house is small but comfortable, the garden is large and shady. Our household--don't sneer too much at these minor details--our household will consist of my _femme de chambre_, and another woman that she is to engage, and a man servant for you. I am promising myself already the greatest satisfaction in being able to prove that one can be perfectly happy, though living in the simplest way, and to judge for myself how so many modest lives are spent in a manner that we rich never even suspect; indeed, dear friend, I mean to live there until you are weary of the solitude of such a life. And then, though it seems childish, I think it will be very amusing to live alone so near Paris. It will amuse me, if our happiness leaves me any time for amusement. "Besides, such a project as this can succeed nowhere except in Paris, for if we were both to disappear at the same time, our secret would very soon be discovered; by remaining in town you will put every one on the wrong track. What will be best of all, will be to hear the comments on my absence, the stories of every sort that will be told, and the proofs of their veracity. _Mon Dieu!_ When I think of all that you are going to hear I envy you. You see I have abused the right I claimed in not being interrupted; it is so hard to be silent when the subject is a long desired pleasure,--desired, yes, with all the strength of love and hope," added Marguerite, with enthusiasm, as she held out her hand to me.