However, as he had but a slight opinion of the sincerity of women, he persuaded himself that Mademoiselle de Luc d’Estrelles, when she came to offer him her heart and hand, nevertheless knew he was not altogether a despicable match for her. He said to himself that a few years back he might have been duped by her apparent sincerity, and congratulated himself on not having fallen into this attractive snare--on not having listened to the first promptings of credulity and sincere emotion. He might have spared himself these compliments. Mademoiselle de Luc d’Estrelles, as he was soon to discover, had been in that perfectly frank, generous, and disinterested state of mind in which women sometimes are. Only, would it happen to him to find her so in the future? That was doubtful, thanks to M. de Camors. It often happens that by despising men too much, we degrade them; in suspecting women too much, we lose them. About an hour passed; there was another rap at the library door. Camors felt a slight palpitation and a secret wish that it should prove Mademoiselle Charlotte. It was the General who entered. He advanced with measured stride, puffed like some sea-monster, and seized Camors by the lapel of his coat. Then he said, impressively: “Well, young gentleman!” “Well, General.” “What are you doing in here?” “Oh, I am at work.” “At work? Um! Sit down there--sit down, sit down!” He threw himself on the sofa where Mademoiselle had been, which rather changed the perspective for Camors. “Well, well!” he repeated, after a long pause. “But what then, General?” “What then? The deuce! Why, have you not noticed that I have been for some days extraordinarily agitated?” “No, General, I have not noticed it.” “You are not very observing! I am extraordinarily agitated--enough to fatigue the eyes. So agitated, upon my word of honor, that there are moments when I am tempted to believe your aunt is right: that I have disease of the heart!” “Bah, General! My aunt is dreaming; you have the pulse of an infant.” “You believe so, really? I do not fear death; but it is always annoying to think of it. But I am too much agitated--it is necessary to put a stop to it. You understand?” “Perfectly; but how can it concern me?” “Concern you? You are about to hear. You are my cousin, are you not?” “Truly, General, I have that honor.” “But very distant, eh? I have thirty-six cousins as near as you, and--the devil! To speak plainly, I owe you nothing.” “And I have never demanded payment even of that, General.”