"Beware, my child!" laughed Monsieur de Beuvre; "you don't know what you are pledging yourself to!" "You do not frighten me," she replied; "he can speak quickly." "Indeed! you think so! but you are sadly mistaken," rejoined Monsieur de Beuvre. "I will wager that his compliments will last more than an hour. So go, both of you, to some room where you will not be disturbed, and when you have said all you have to say, you can join us again." The marquis was not disconcerted by this jesting. He had not reached the resolution to prefer his request without stifling some vivid apprehensions touching the marriage state, into which he had delayed entering for about forty years. If he had decided at last, it was because he wished to make someone else rich and happy, and, having once adopted that idea, he considered it his duty not to allow himself to be turned aside from it. No sooner had they reached the salon, therefore, than he offered his heart, his name and his fortune, after the style in vogue in _Astrée_, with the unbridled passion which knows nothing milder than horrible torments, sighs that rend the heart, terrors that cause a thousand deaths, hopes that take away the reason, etc.; and all this with such chaste and cold propriety that the most timid virtue could not take alarm. When Lauriane realized that he was talking about marriage, she was as surprised as her father. She knew that the marquis was capable of anything, and instead of laughing at him she felt sorry for him. She had a warm friendship for him, and respect for his goodness of heart and loyalty. She felt that the poor old man would lay himself open to interminable taunts, if she should set the example, and that the friendly and kindly raillery of which he had hitherto been the object, would become stinging and cruel. "No," thought the judicious child, "it shall not be so, I will not suffer my old friend to be the laughing-stock of his servants.--My dear marquis," she said, exerting herself to speak after his style, "I have often reflected upon the possibility and the suitability of the plan which you propose to me. I had divined your noble and virtuous flame, and, if I have not reciprocated it, it is only because I am still so young that mischievous Cupid has paid no attention to me as yet. Allow me therefore to frolic yet a little while in the enchanted isle of Ignorance of Love; I can be in no haste to come forth, since I am happy in your friendship. Of all the men whom I know, you are the best and most lovable, and, when my heart speaks, it may well be that it will speak to me of you. But that is written in the book of destinies, and you must e'en give me time to question mine. If, by some fatality, it should be my destiny to be ungrateful to you, I would confess it honestly and sorrowfully, for it would be my loss and my shame; but your heart is so great and so kind that you would still be my brother and my friend despite my folly."