"And so, mademoiselle, I write to-day to apologize at your feet, and to say to you that one so lovely and amiable as you can dispense with many things, even with fortune, when it is a question of entering a rich and honorable family. "I ask your permission, therefore, to call upon you once more in order to lay before your father in due form my petition for your hand, in my son's behalf, as soon as my son shall have fully authorized me to do so. This last sentence demands an explanation, and that explanation should properly find a place in this letter. "I make my consent to my son's happiness dependent upon a single condition, and that condition tends only to make his happiness more complete and to assure its continuance indefinitely. I demand that he abandon those eccentric opinions which would impair our good understanding and would endanger his fortune and consideration in the future. I am sure that you are too sensible and too intelligent to understand the socialistic, levelling doctrines, with the aid of which my dear Emile and his young friends expect to overturn the world in a short time; that the stock phrases of the brotherhood of mankind, equal participation in privileges and enjoyments, and many other technical terms of the young communistic school are absolutely unintelligible to you. I fancy that Emile has never bored you to death with his philosophical declamations, and I find it hard to believe that he could have obtained the happiness of winning your affection by that nonsense. I have no doubt that he will consent to abstain from it forever and to renounce his folly. At that price, provided that he gives me the promise, freely but solemnly, I will consent with all my heart to ratify the fortunate choice that he has made of a perfect creature like yourself. Be kind enough, mademoiselle, to convey to monsieur your father my deep regret at not seeing him, and to inform him of the contents of this letter. "Pray accept the sentiments of esteem and of paternal affection with which I place my son's cause and my own in your hands." "VICTOR CARDONNET." While a servant in gold lace, mounted on a fine horse, carried this letter to Châteaubrun, Emile, over-burdened with anxious care, betook himself on foot to the park of Boisguilbault. "Well," said the marquis, squeezing his hand hard, "I did not expect you until next Sunday. I thought that you forgot me yesterday, so this is a pleasant surprise. I thank you, Emile. The days are very long since you have been working so faithfully for your father. I can only approve your submission, although I ask myself with some little alarm if it will not take you farther along with him and his principles than you think. But what's the matter, Emile? You are pale, distressed. You haven't had a fall from your horse, have you?"