"The matter looked quite simple to you," the merchant proceeded, "the notion of taking my daughter for your mistress. I am no longer your slave, your serf, your vassal, your chattel; playing the good Prince, you graciously condescended to have me take a chair, and you even addressed me patronizingly--'Dear Monsieur Lebrenn.' There are Counts no longer, still you carry your title and the coat-of-arms of a Count. Civil equality has been declared, and yet nothing would seem more monstrous to you than to marry your daughter or your sister to a bourgeois or a mechanic, whatever their worthiness and the honorable character that they might bear. Would you dare to gainsay my words? No; you might, perhaps, cite some exception, it would be but a fresh proof that such unions remain misalliances in your eyes. Trifles, you may say; they certainly are trifles--but what a grave symptom the attaching of so much importance to trifles is! You and yours, were you to become all-powerful in the nation to-morrow, would fatedly and necessarily, as happened under the Restoration, seek by little and little to re-establish your ancient privileges, which, from being trivial, would then become hateful, disgraceful and oppressive to us, as they were for centuries hateful, disgraceful and oppressive to our ancestors." So stupefied was the Count of Plouernel at the transformation of the bearing, tone and language of the linendraper that he did not interrupt him. Assuming finally an air of haughtiness he replied ironically: "I doubt not, monsieur, that the moral of the beautiful lesson in history which you have had the kindness to read to me in your capacity of linendraper probably is that the priests and nobles should be sent to the lamp-post--as was the fashion in the good old days of 1793, and our daughters and sisters married to the nearest valet at hand." "Oh, monsieur," said the merchant in a tone of lofty sorrow, "let us not mention reprisals. Forget what your fathers suffered during those ominous years--I, on my part, will forget what our ancestors suffered, at the hands of yours, and, not during a _few years_, but during FIFTEEN CENTURIES OF TORMENT! Marry your daughters and sisters as it may please you, it is your right; believe in misalliances, that is your affair. These are facts that I mention; and, as a symptom, I repeat it, they are grave; they prove that, in your estimation, there are and ever will be two distinct races in the land." "And supposing it is so, monsieur, what business is it of yours how we look upon things?"