"Yes, madame, I have been told that the councillor was very jealous of the influence which you exercise over his clients, who always address themselves to you rather than to him. . . . You are known to be so good . . . to possess such a correct judgment . . . and yet your husband ought to bless you every day; for the Scripture says, _The husband who has a good wife is happy, and that the number of his years shall be doubled._" This was said with an expression of such virgin innocence, with so gentle and pious an accent, that Martha, stupefied, after taking a long look at the enchanting face, said to herself: "He is a true paschal lamb. . . . Poor innocent! . . . sacred texts always in his mind! . . . how he interests me!" . . . and she added aloud: "Tell me how it is, that, young as you are, your parents allow you to travel alone? How is it that they confide so important a lawsuit to your inexperience?" "Alas, madame, I am an orphan. . . . I am poor. . . . I have no one to help me, and my only friend and guide is my old preceptor." "But how is it that, pleasing as you are, you have such a reputation?" "I, madame?" asked Létorière, with angelic simplicity, "what reputation?" The councillor's wife was confounded; she could easily understand that stories had been exaggerated; but that a youth of such rare candor, and of such a pious education, could pass for an heartless seducer, was beyond her comprehension. "Have you no relative of your name at the French court?" she asked, anxiously. "No, madame." . . . "It is plain that the German princes have spread these injurious reports about their adversary," thought Martha. "But tell me, what steps have you taken hitherto?" "Alas! most useless ones, madame. . . . I went first to the castle of the Baron of Henferester." . . . "Good heavens! poor child, did you venture into the den of that frightful Polyphemus?" "Yes, madame; oh, he frightened me so! And then . . ." "Go on, go on! Tell me all; and in order to put you at your ease, I will tell you that my husband and myself both cordially detest the baron." "I did not know that, madame; that is why I feared . . . to tell you . . ." "No, no, tell me all!" "Well, madame, I went to the castle of Henferester. The baron began to ridicule me because I went in a carriage instead of on horseback." "The wicked old centaur! . . . He thinks that everybody is like himself, all iron and steel," said Martha, contemptuously. "Then, when I began to speak to him of my lawsuit, he said to me in his loud voice "'_Dinner first, . . . we can talk better glass in hand._'" "The drunkard! I recognize him there." "Not daring to oppose the baron, I went to the table; but at the risk of displeasing him, as he had not said grace, I asked his permission to say it." "Poor little martyr! . . . Well done, my child! and the brute let you say it, I hope?" "Yes, madame, but he afterwards laughed so much that I felt scandalized." . . .