de which
one she would choose; as she would share it with him she wished to take
the best, but he would not accept this arrangement.

"I want you to choose between the two little ones," he said. "The
largest and best must be reserved for your mother, who, not being able
to go out, needs more space, air, and light than we do."

She was transported with his kindness, delicacy, and generosity. Never
would she be able to love him enough to raise herself up to him.

Fortunately the principal rooms, the parlor and the office, were about
the same size as those in the Rue Louis-le-Grand, so there need be but
little change in furnishing; and they would bring their furniture from
the Rue des Moines.

This feminine talk, interrupted by passionate exclamations and glances,
charmed Saniel, who had forgotten the incident of the confession and
his anger, thinking only of Phillis, seeing only her, ravished by her
gayety, her vivacity, his whole being stirred by the tender caresses of
her beautiful dark eyes.

How could he not be happy with this delicious woman who held such
sway over him, and who loved him so ardently? For him a single danger
henceforth--solitude. She would preserve him from it. With her gayety,
good temper, courage, and love, she would not leave him to his thoughts;
work would do the rest.

After the question of furniture was decided, they settled that of the
marriage ceremony, and she was surprised to find that his ideas were the
same as hers.

She decided upon her toilet, a silk gown as simple as possible, and
she would make it herself, as she made all her gowns. And then they
discussed the witnesses. "We have no friends," Phillis said.

"You had some formerly; your father had friends and comrades."

"I am no longer the daughter of my father, I am the sister of my
brother; I would not dare to ask them to witness my marriage."

"It is just because you are the sister of your brother that they cannot
refuse you; it would be cruelty added to rudeness. Cruelty may be
overlooked, but rudeness! Among the men of talent, who was your father's
best friend?"

"Cintrat."

"Is he not a bohemian, a drunkard?"

"My father regarded him as the greatest painter of our time, the most
original."

"It is not a question of talent, but of name; I am sure that he is not
even decorated. Your father had other friends, more successful, more
commonplace, if you wish."

"Glorient."

"The member of the Institute?"

"Caspa