"Poor fellow! Yes," answered the Judge. "But men are very apt to be good-natured to poor fellows, who have got nice sisters, with whom they are in love." "I dare say, Judge. But to reply in your own phraseology--that is no case in point; for granting that Auguste's sister is _nice_, which I will not be so modest as to gainsay, Monsieur de Chavannes is not the least in love with her." "Perhaps, not." "Certainly, not." "Well, be it so? What else do you know about him?" "Nothing, Judge Selwyn." "Nothing of his character, his principles, his morals, or his habits?" "Really, Judge, one would think, to hear you, that I was going to hire a footman--which I am much too poor to do--and that Monsieur de Chavannes had applied for the place. What on earth have I to do with the young gentleman's character or principles? I know that he is very gentlemanlike, and is neither a coxcomb nor a pedant, which is refreshing in these days." "And, as Caroline says, very handsome, eh?" "Yes, I think he is handsome," I replied. "But that has nothing to do with it." "Not much, truly," said the Judge drily. "And this is all you know?" "Or desire to know. It seems to me quite enough to know of an acquaintance of a few days' standing." "Well--well," he answered, shaking his head a little. "Well. He _is_ all that you say. A very fine young man, he seems. I like him. Well, I will make inquiries." "Not on my account, I intreat, Judge Selwyn,"--said I, interrupting him eagerly. "Mademoiselle Valerie de Chatenoeuf," he said drily, though half in jest, "my head is an old one, yours a very young one. I know young folks are apt to think old heads good for nothing." "I do not, I am sure," interrupted I, again. "I do not, indeed." "Nor I, Valerie,"--he answered, interrupting me in his turn, with a good-natured smile. "So you shall let me have my way in this matter. But, to relieve you, my dear, permit me to observe that I have two daughters of my own, and one young son, besides Charles, who is old enough to take care of himself; and, though I am very glad to ask a young man to dine in my house who has, as you observe, very good manners, and is neither a fool nor a coxcomb, I am not at all willing that he should become what you call an _habitue_, until I know something of his character and principles. And now, as the dressing-bell has rung these ten minutes, and it will take you at least half-an-hour to beautify your little person, I advise you to make the most of your time. And by all means, Valerie, stick to your resolution--never marry, my dear, never marry; for all men are tyrants." One might be very sure that I profited by this dismissal, and ran across the lawn as fast as I could, glad to escape the far-sighted experience of the shrewd old lawyer.