If I ever catch
that pair in my power," he said to himself as he left the yard, "I'll
squeeze them like lemons."

By cultivating the society of the doctor, the abbe, and Monsieur
Bongrand, Savinien proved the excellence of his character. The love
of this young man for Ursula, so devoid of self-interest, and so
persistent, interested the three friends deeply, and they now never
separated the lovers in their thoughts. Soon the monotony of this
patriarchal life, and the certainty of a future before them, gave to
their affection a fraternal character. The doctor often left the pair
alone together. He judged the young man rightly; he saw him kiss her
hand on arriving, but he knew he would ask no kiss when alone with her,
so deeply did the lover respect the innocence, the frankness of the
young girl, whose excessive sensibility, often tried, taught him that a
harsh word, a cold look, or the alternations of gentleness and roughness
might kill her. The only freedom between the two took place before the
eyes of the old man in the evenings.

Two years, full of secret happiness, passed thus,--without other events
than the fruitless efforts made by the young man to obtain from his
mother her consent to his marriage. He talked to her sometimes for hours
together. She listened and made no answer to his entreaties, other than
by Breton silence or a positive denial.

At nineteen years of age Ursula, elegant in appearance, a fine musician,
and well brought up, had nothing more to learn; she was perfected. The
fame of her beauty and grace and education spread far. The doctor was
called upon to decline the overtures of Madame d'Aiglemont, who was
thinking of Ursula for her eldest son. Six months later, in spite of the
secrecy the doctor and Ursula maintained on this subject, Savinien
heard of it. Touched by so much delicacy, he made use of the incident
in another attempt to vanquish his mother's obstinacy; but she merely
replied:--

"If the d'Aiglemonts choose to ally themselves ill, is that any reason
why we should do so?"

In December, 1834, the kind and now truly pious old doctor, then
eighty-eight years old, declined visibly. When seen out of doors, his
face pinched and wan and his eyes pale, all the town talked of his
approaching death. "You'll soon know results," said the community to the
heirs. In truth the old man's death had all the attraction of a problem.
But the doctor himself did not know he was ill; he had his illusion