constant dejection of M. Germain, for the poor young man
was very sad, and always seemed to have a heavy load on his mind, while
you, on the contrary, took my fancy directly I saw you."

"Come now, my pretty neighbour, you must not be angry with me; I am
going to speak candidly and sincerely, like an old friend."

"Oh, don't be afraid to say anything to me; I am very good-natured; and
besides, I feel certain you are too kind; you could never have the heart
to say anything to me that would give me pain."

"You are quite right; but do tell me truly, have you never had any
lovers?"

"Lovers! I should think not! What time have I for such things?"

"What has time got to do with it?"

"Why, everything, to be sure. In the first place, I should be jealous as
a tigress; and I should be continually worrying myself with one idea or
another; and let me ask you whether you think it is likely I could
afford to lose two or three hours a day in fretting and grieving. And
then, suppose my lover were to turn out false! Oh, what tears it would
cost me; how wretched I should be! All that sort of thing would put me
sadly behindhand with my work, I can tell you."

"Well, but all lovers are not faithless and a cause of grief and sorrow
to their mistress."

"Oh, bless you! It would be still worse for me, if he were all goodness
and truth. Why, then I should not be able to live without him for a
single hour; and as most probably he would be obliged to remain all day
in his office, or shop, or manufactory, I should be like some poor,
restless spirit all the time of his absence. I should imagine all sorts
of things, picture to myself his being at that moment pleasantly engaged
in company with one he loved better than myself. And then, if he forsook
me, oh, Heaven only knows what I might be tempted to do in my despair,
or what might become of me. One thing is very certain, that my work
would suffer for it; and then what should I do? Why, quietly as I live
at present, it is much as I can manage to live by working from twelve to
fifteen hours a day. Where should I be, if I were to lose three or four
days a week by tormenting myself? How could I ever catch up all that
time? Oh, I never could; it would be quite impossible! I should be
obliged, then, to take a situation, to live under the control of a
mistress; but no, no, I will never bring myself to that,--I love my
liberty too well."

"Your liberty?"

"Yes, I might go as forewoman to the