uch impulses are seldom altogether
bad; perhaps Reason, by a process as brief as quiet, a process that
is finished ere felt, has ascertained the sanity of the deed Instinct
meditates, and feels justified in remaining passive while it is
performed. I know I did not reason, I did not plan or intend, yet,
whereas one moment I was sitting solus on the chair near the table,
the next, I held Frances on my knee, placed there with sharpness and
decision, and retained with exceeding tenacity.

"Monsieur!" cried Frances, and was still: not another word escaped her
lips; sorely confounded she seemed during the lapse of the first few
moments; but the amazement soon subsided; terror did not succeed, nor
fury: after all, she was only a little nearer than she had ever been
before, to one she habitually respected and trusted; embarrassment might
have impelled her to contend, but self-respect checked resistance where
resistance was useless.

"Frances, how much regard have you for me?" was my demand. No answer;
the situation was yet too new and surprising to permit speech. On this
consideration, I compelled myself for some seconds to tolerate her
silence, though impatient of it: presently, I repeated the same
question--probably, not in the calmest of tones; she looked at me; my
face, doubtless, was no model of composure, my eyes no still wells of
tranquillity.

"Do speak," I urged; and a very low, hurried, yet still arch voice
said--

"Monsieur, vous me faites mal; de grace lachez un peu ma main droite."

In truth I became aware that I was holding the said "main droite" in
a somewhat ruthless grasp: I did as desired; and, for the third time,
asked more gently--

"Frances, how much regard have you for me?"

"Mon maitre, j'en ai beaucoup," was the truthful rejoinder.

"Frances, have you enough to give yourself to me as my wife?--to accept
me as your husband?"

I felt the agitation of the heart, I saw "the purple light of love" cast
its glowing reflection on cheeks, temples, neck; I desired to consult
the eye, but sheltering lash and lid forbade.

"Monsieur," said the soft voice at last,--"Monsieur desire savoir si je
consens--si--enfin, si je veux me marier avec lui?"

"Justement."

"Monsieur sera-t-il aussi bon mari qu'il a ete bon maitre?"

"I will try, Frances."

A pause; then with a new, yet still subdued inflexion of the voice--an
inflexion which provoked while it pleased me--accompanied, too, by a
"sourire a la foi