The barber appeared to listen to Urbain without being in the least moved by his prayers, when the young bachelor added,-- "I know, monsieur, all that you have done for Blanche. Her father was assassinated, she remained an orphan without any support. She owes everything to you." "What?" said Touquet, who had paid more attention to Urbain's last words, "you know--" "Yes, monsieur, I learned all that concerns her whom I adore. She did not know her parents and possessed no fortune, but it is she alone whom I ask of you. You have done well for her. Give me Blanche; she is sufficient for my happiness. I also am an orphan; my family was honest and respectable, but I have no relations left. My name is Urbain Dorgeville; I have an income of twelve hundred livres; that is very little, but I possess besides a little house in the country, on the borders of the Loire, there I shall go to live with Blanche. Far from the tumult of the city, which we shall not regret, nor its pleasures; and far from society, which we do not wish to know, we shall there pass our days in peace and love and happiness." The barber appeared to reflect deeply. He rose, and strolled about the room with bowed head. Hope and fear were depicted in the looks of the two lovers, who waited with impatience his answer. Finally, he paused, and said to Urbain,-- "You are an orphan? Entirely master of your own actions?" "Yes, monsieur." "There is nobody to object to your marrying an orphan without means, and whose family is unknown?" "Nobody, I repeat to you, can oppose my wishes." "You will never seek, yourself, to obtain any information in regard to Blanche's family, which, besides, would prove entirely fruitless." "Why, what does it matter to me who were her parents. She is a treasure in herself." "And you will go to live with her far from Paris--far from everyone?" "Yes, for I shall make it my care to be all-sufficient to her happiness." "O heavens, Urbain," said Blanche, "You know very well that I never left this room, where I saw no one but Marguerite. If I were to live with you in the country do you suppose that I should wish for anything else?" "Dear Blanche, unite with me then in obtaining the consent of your protector." The two young people bent on the barber entreating looks. The latter did not notice them and appeared entirely wrapped in his reflections; at last, all of a sudden, he stopped before Urbain, and said, in a curt tone,-- "Blanche is yours." "Can it be?" cried the young bachelor, in a delirium of happiness. "Blanche, do you hear? He consents to our union." "Oh, my dear friend, how much I thank you." And the two lovers fell on their knees before Touquet, their eyes bathed with tears of pleasure and gratitude. "What are you doing?" said the barber, who seemed ashamed to see the young couple at his feet. "Get up, I beg of you." "You have made us happy," said Urbain, "and you will not even receive our thanks."