Again you complain of my silence, in a letter written with the object of

overwhelming me with abuse; and you mix up sarcasms (through which your

childish curiosity is very transparent) with philosophical remarks which

reveal the snobbishness of your nature. In fact, from the tone of your

letters, one might imagine I was threatened by strange complications,

and that you were hoping every morning to read the account of some

catastrophe. For once in a way your longing for an important event will

not be disappointed, for I have a weighty piece of news for you. As it

belongs to the most strictly moral order of events, you may listen

without any anxiety.

As you are aware, my aunt and uncle came to Paris a fortnight ago, and

will stay here all the winter. The house in the Rue de Varennes has

resumed its gay honours; we give receptions, dinners, and everything

else that you are familiar with, but embellished this time by the

presence of the charming Countess of Monteclaro, who supplies that

lively element of family life which we rather missed formerly. My aunt

has discovered here a young cousin of hers, Count Daniel Kiusko, a

capital fellow, whom I have quite made friends with.

Having given you these details, I will now proceed with my story.

The other morning, after breakfast, as I was about to return to my room

(for whatever you may believe, I am working hard just now), my uncle

stopped me, and without any further preliminaries began: "By the way, André, I expect Madame Saulnier and my god-daughter Anna

Campbell, your betrothed, to dinner this, evening. I should not mind

letting you make her acquaintance. If you happen to be curious to see

her, don't make any engagements at the club, and come home punctually."

"Really!" exclaimed my aunt with a laugh, and without giving me time to

answer: "from the way you put it, one might think you were talking of

some doll that you intended to offer André for his birthday!"

"What the deuce do you mean by that, my dear?" asked the captain in his

imperturbable way.

"I mean," said my aunt, "that this little acquaintance which you wish

they should make with each other before you marry them, seems to me a

very necessary preliminary."

"Pooh! They've still a good year before them! Besides, this little

matter has nothing to do with romance." Then turning to me he continued;

"Well, if that suits you for to-day, I have given you notice."




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