h, on Sunday morning, when mass was over, his mother-in-law
asked Germain what encouragement he had had from his sweetheart since
the conversation in the orchard.

"Why, none at all," answered he; "I have n't spoken to her."

"How can you expect to win her if you don't speak to her?"

"I have spoken to her but once," replied Germain. "That was when we were
together at Fourche, and since then I have n't said a single word. Her
refusal gave me so much pain that I had rather not hear her begin again
to tell me that she does n't love me."

"But, my son, you must speak to her now; your father gives his approval.
So make up your mind. I tell you to do it, and, if need be, I shall
order you to do it, for you can't rest in this uncertainty."

Germain obeyed. He reached Mother Guillette's house, hanging his
head with a hopeless air. Little Marie sat alone before the hearth so
thoughtful that she did not hear Germain's step. When she saw him before
her, she started from her chair in surprise and grew very red.

"Little Marie," said he, sitting down near her, "I come to trouble you
and to give you pain. I know it very well, but the man and his wife at
home [it was thus after the peasant fashion that he designated the heads
of the house] wish me to speak to you, and beg you to marry me. You
don't care for me. I am prepared for it."

"Germain," answered little Marie, "are you sure that you love me?"

"It pains you, I know, but it is n't my fault. If you could change your
mind, I should be so very happy, and certain it is that I don't deserve
it. Look at me, Marie; am I very terrible?"

"No, Germain," she answered, with a smile, "you are better looking than
I."

"Don't make fun of me; look at me charitably; as yet, I have never lost
a single hair nor a single tooth. My eyes tell you plainly how much I
love you. Look straight into my eyes. It is written there, and every
girl knows how to read that writing."

Marie looked into Germain's eyes with playful boldness; then of a sudden
she turned away her head and trembled.

"Good God," exclaimed Germain, "I make you afraid; you look at me as
though I were the farmer of Ormeaux. Don't be afraid of me, please
don't; that hurts me too much. I shall not say any bad words to you, I
shall not kiss you if you will not have me, and when you wish me to go
away, you have only to show me the door. Must I go in order to stop your
trembling?"

Marie held out her hand toward the husbandma