"Why, Monsieur Sylvestre!" she suddenly exclaimed. "Good evening, Monsieur Sylvestre! Well, I never! I didn't expect to see you!" The poor fellow looked up eagerly, and, gazing at Bijou, with his soft, blue eyes full of deep distress, he stammered out: "I did not expect to be seen either, mademoiselle!" XVI. ON going to bed at five in the morning, Bijou slept for two hours, and when, later on, she went to the marchioness's room, she looked as fresh and as thoroughly rested as after a long night's sleep. "Grandmamma," she said, "I have been thinking a great deal ever since yesterday." "About what?" "Why, about what you told me as regards M. de Clagny." "Ah!" said the marchioness, rather annoyed at a subject being brought up again, which she had thought over and done with. Rather selfish, like nearly all elderly people, it seemed to her utterly useless to trouble about matters which were painful or sad, except just to settle them off once for all. "I have been thinking," continued Bijou. "And then, too, I saw M. de Clagny last night at the ball--" "Well, and what is the result of all this thinking and of this interview?" asked the marchioness, rather anxiously. "The result is that I have changed my mind." "What do you say?" "I say that, with your permission, I will marry M. de Clagny." "Nonsense! you won't do anything of the kind." "Why not?" "Because it would be madness." "Why, no, grandmamma, it would be very wise, on the contrary; if I did not marry him, I should never again all my life long have a minute's peace." "Because?--" "Because I have seen that he is dreadfully and horribly unhappy." "No doubt; but that will all be forgotten in time." "Oh, no, it won't be forgotten! And I told you I like M. de Clagny more than I have ever liked anyone--except you; and so the idea that he is wretched on my account--and, perhaps, a little through my fault--would seem odious to me, and would make me unhappy--much more unhappy even than he is." "But you would be still more so if you married him. Listen, Bijou, dear, you know nothing about life, nor about marriage. I have, perhaps, been wrong in bringing you up so strictly, not letting you read or hear enough about things; there are certain duties and obligations which marriage imposes upon us, and about which you know nothing, and these duties--well, you ought to know something about them, before rushing headlong into such a terrible venture as this."