ke with some enthusiasm of a young American owning an immense
fortune, who had fallen passionately in love with her sister, and made
through her the most splendid proposals.

"A banker, I rather think," observed Emilie carelessly. "I do not like
money dealers."

"But, Emilie," replied the Baron de Villaine, the husband of the Count's
second daughter, "you do not like lawyers either; so that if you refuse
men of wealth who have not titles, I do not quite see in what class you
are to choose a husband."

"Especially, Emilie, with your standard of slimness," added the
Lieutenant-General.

"I know what I want," replied the young lady.

"My sister wants a fine name, a fine young man, fine prospects, and a
hundred thousand francs a year," said the Baronne de Fontaine. "Monsieur
de Marsay, for instance."

"I know, my dear," retorted Emilie, "that I do not mean to make such a
foolish marriage as some I have seen. Moreover, to put an end to these
matrimonial discussions, I hereby declare that I shall look on anyone
who talks to me of marriage as a foe to my peace of mind."

An uncle of Emilie's, a vice-admiral, whose fortune had just been
increased by twenty thousand francs a year in consequence of the Act of
Indemnity, and a man of seventy, feeling himself privileged to say hard
things to his grand-niece, on whom he doted, in order to mollify the
bitter tone of the discussion now exclaimed:

"Do not tease my poor little Emilie; don't you see she is waiting till
the Duc de Bordeaux comes of age!"

The old man's pleasantry was received with general laughter.

"Take care I don't marry you, old fool!" replied the young girl, whose
last words were happily drowned in the noise.

"My dear children," said Madame de Fontaine, to soften this saucy
retort, "Emilie, like you, will take no advice but her mother's."

"Bless me! I shall take no advice but my own in a matter which concerns
no one but myself," said Mademoiselle de Fontaine very distinctly.

At this all eyes were turned to the head of the family. Every one seemed
anxious as to what he would do to assert his dignity. The venerable
gentleman enjoyed much consideration, not only in the world; happier
than many fathers, he was also appreciated by his family, all its
members having a just esteem for the solid qualities by which he had
been able to make their fortunes. Hence he was treated with the deep
respect which is shown by English families, and some aristocratic ho