"Oh, I know!" he continued, laughing. "You didn’t praise me up to the skies, but, at all events, you did me no harm. And I admit that you showed real insight. You said that though Mlle. Marguerite might not be absolutely happy with me, she would not be unhappy. Well, the prophet Daniel could not have spoken better. The truth is, the dear child will never be absolutely happy with any one, because she will not find in the whole world a husband who will talk poetry to her from morning to night.... They’re not to be had. I am no more capable of it than any one else, I own; but—as you were good enough to say—I am an honourable man. And really, when we know one another better, you will be convinced of it. I am not a brute; I am a good fellow. God knows I have faults ... one especially: I am fond of pretty women.... I am, I can’t deny it. But what does it matter? It shows that one has a good heart. Besides, here I am in port ... and I am delighted, because—between ourselves—I was getting into a bit of a mess. In short, I mean only to think about my wife and children in future. So, like you, I believe Marguerite will be perfectly happy—that is to say, as far as she could be in this world with ideas like hers. For, after all, I shall be good to her; I shall refuse her nothing, and I shall do even more than she desires. But if she asks me for the moon and the stars, I can’t go and fetch them to please her ... that’s not possible.... And now, my dear friend, your hand once more." I gave it him. He got up. "Good! I hope that you will stay with us now.... Come, let me see that a brighter face! We will make your life as pleasant as possible, but you’ll have to help us a bit, you know. You cultivate your sadness, I fancy. You live, if I may say so, too much like an owl. You’re a kind of Spaniard such as one rarely sees. You must drop that sort of thing. You are young and good-looking, you have wit and talents; make the best of those qualities. Listen. Why not try a flirtation with little Hélouin.... It would amuse you. She is very charming, and she would suit you. But, deuce take me! I am rather forgetting my promotion to high dignities! ... And now, good-bye, Maxime, till to-morrow, isn’t it?" "Till to-morrow, certainly." And this honest gentleman—who is the sort of Spaniard one often sees!—left me to my reflections. _October 1st_.