This conversation between the uncle and nephew was interrupted by the sound of a horse's hoofs, dragging a sleigh rapidly toward the door of the house. "That is beyond doubt my future son-in-law," said M. de Vermondans, "another philosopher, who, like yourself, does not in every respect agree with you. He is, however, a good fellow, who under a by no means aristocratic exterior conceals the noblest qualities." When she heard the sleigh, Alete ran to the door sill; and Ebba followed him. At the appearance of the two sisters, like a rose and a lily, the young man hastened to divest himself of the thick fur which enwrapped him, sprang from the sleigh, and hastened to his betrothed. He had not, however, remembered the caprice of Alete, who, instead of giving him her hand as usual, looked sternly at him, and said: "Sir, you are incorrigible. How comes that waistcoat to be buttoned wrong? And why has that cravat wings, like those of a crow? Why does your shirt-collar come up to your ears? Is this the fruit of the lessons on the toilette, which I have so often given you? Did I not also order you to attend to your hair, and not let it fall on your shoulder, like two bundles of flax, in disorder? You do not know that we have here a cousin from Paris, who will take you for a Goth, or the Lord knows what." The poor young man, stupefied at this reception, looked down mechanically, with his hand on his waistcoat and his cravat, and did not dare to approach his rigorous mistress. "Alete, Alete," said Ebba, with a voice of supplication, "how can you be so cruel!" Alete, satisfied beyond doubt by the respectful submission with which her Reproaches had been received, sprang to the neck of her betrothed, and said, "But I love my dear Eric truly. If I sometimes play the magnificent with him, it is to make him think that he has himself, in a noble epistle, called me his sovereign. Is not this so, Eric?" added she, leaning toward him like a petted child. "Do you not weary of my little wickednesses? At present, you see, I use the remnant of my liberty: when we are married, however, I shall be a model of obedience." The face of Eric had already become lighted up, and he kissed with pleasure the little hand placed in his. Alete seemed to fear nothing so much as these sentimental manifestations, and took him into the room where the uncle and nephew had their political contest, and pausing before Ireneus, said, "Cousin, permit me to introduce to you M. Eric Goldberg, Doctor of the University of Upsal, and a learned Grecian, who never in his life read a single line of the _Journal des Modes_, and cannot conceive of the difference between a good and bad tailor; who would not know how to hold a fan; or to perform a contradance, but who, in spite of all that, is one of the best fellows in the world, and is devoted to your cousin."