"Very well; but it is unnecessary--I have seen the sister of the person who gave you the letter.--You are a Milanese?" "No, mademoiselle; I was born at Pau, in Béarn; but I have lived at Milan, or in the suburbs, ever since I was a child." "And your relations?" "I lost them when I was very young, all except an old female cousin, who still lives at Pau, and whose son, who is very fond of me, was kind enough to undertake to bring me to Paris." "Where is this youth?" "In the courtyard, mademoiselle." "How did you make the journey?" "On Bourriquet's back, both of us. Bourriquet is Cédrille's horse; he's a good beast and carried us finely; but we made short days, so as not to tire him." "And your travelling companion--does he too hope to find a place in Paris?" "Oh! no, mademoiselle; Cédrille came with me only as a favor to me; and he is going right back to his province, after he has rested a little in Paris." "This Cédrille, who is your cousin, is your betrothed too, perhaps?" said Madame de Ravenelle, carelessly turning her head toward the girl. But she replied: "Oh, no! Cédrille is not my betrothed, madame; he loves me very dearly though, and he has asked me if I would be his wife; but I refused him, refused him flatly, telling him that I should never have anything but a sisterly affection for him. Cédrille made the best of it and is content with that." "Why did you refuse to marry your cousin? Was it because he has nothing, and can't do anything?" "I beg pardon, madame, Cédrille has quite enough to live comfortably; he's a worthy, honest man--a hard worker, who knows more about agriculture and plowing than anybody in our neighborhood." "And in spite of all that, you would not consent to be his wife?" continued the old lady, fixing her eyes on Miretta, who looked down and blushed as she faltered: "No, madame." "You had some reason for refusing him, doubtless?" "Mon Dieu! a single one, madame; but it seems to me that it should be sufficient in such a matter: I have no love for him, and I do not care to marry without love." "Ah! very well answered!" cried Valentine, smiling at the girl; "certainly that reason is quite sufficient! As if a woman ought to marry a man she does not love! that would be equivalent to deliberately choosing to be unhappy all her life!" "Such things have been seen, however, niece! And a woman is not always unhappy on that account; it often turns out just the other way." "Well, aunt, I consider that Miretta has done well not to marry her cousin, as she has no love for him." "Perhaps you will not always talk so, my dear!" "Miretta," continued Valentine, turning to the girl, "I take you into my service, that is settled; and I will give you---- How much should I give her, aunt?" "Whatever you please, niece." "Very well! two hundred livres a year.--Is that enough, Miretta? does that satisfy you?"