"You give me the most delicious pleasure--a tete-a-tete with you! It is a priceless favor to me. It is very true that in society it is difficult to say--all that one thinks; and last night, at your father's, there was a young man who seemed to be vexed at our conversation." "Oh! Gustave.--He's an old play-fellow of mine." "An old play-fellow? Isn't he something more than that?" "What! what do you mean?" "Stay, charming widow, I will explain my meaning without beating about the bush. Yesterday, when he told me that you were a widow, Monsieur Batonnin told me also that you were to marry again very soon." "Mon Dieu! what a chatterbox that Monsieur Batonnin is! what business is it of his?" "It is quite possible that he's a chatterbox; but, tell me, is it the truth? Are you going to marry Monsieur Gustave, your old play-fellow?" "Yes, it is true that there has been some talk of marriage between us; but it's a long way from that to an actual marriage." "Really--you are not actually engaged to him?" "Engaged? Not by any means!" "But--that apartment that he spoke about last night, that he asked you to go to look at?" "Why, it's an apartment that he is thinking of renting for himself, and he wants my advice as to the arrangement of the rooms; because a woman understands such things better than a man, don't you see? But now it's your turn, monsieur le comte, to tell me why you are so anxious to know whether my hand is at my disposition." "Why, charming creature! can't you guess why? Don't you remember what I said to you one day, at your own house, soon after your marriage? I said: 'Monleard has been smarter than I, he has got ahead of me; for, if it had not been for him, I would have asked you to be Comtesse de la Beriniere.'--Very good; what I could not do then, I should be very happy to do to-day. Now, you see, I don't propose to lose any time and let some other man get ahead of me; I go straight to the point. If you are not engaged, I offer you my name and my fortune; I will transform you into a fascinating countess." "Oh! monsieur le comte, can I believe you? do you really mean what you say? I most certainly am not engaged--but my sister--you loved her?" "I thought of your sister for a moment, solely with a view of entering your family. You cannot fear to make her unhappy by accepting my hand, since she refused it." "True, the little fool! I wouldn't have refused it, I can tell you!" "Very well; then you accept now--you consent to become a countess? Give me your hand, as a token of your consent." Fanny pretended to be embarrassed, and lowered her eyes; but she gave her hand to the count, who threw himself at her feet, crying: "I am the happiest of men!" During this interview, Gustave had called and asked for Fanny; but the maid said to him: "It is impossible for you to see her, monsieur; she has a sick headache; she is asleep, and told me not to wake her." "And her order applies to me too?"