Eh? What? You incorrigible carper! Is it not, after all, a charming

romance?

A fortnight has passed since the intervention of the commissary. Kiusko

has gone: he disappeared one morning. My aunt Eudoxia, who has taken us

under her special care, goes to see Kondjé-Gul every day at the convent.

She is charming in her kindness to us, but still we have our anxieties.

The negotiation of the maternal consent is an arduous task, for the

Circassian makes absurd pretensions; my uncle, however, undertakes to

bring her down.

What will you say next, I wonder? That I am reduced to buying my own

wife? I flatter myself that I shall find happiness in that bargain! How

many others are there, who have done the same, that could say as much as

that?




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