t
was then with George Sand, the illustrious writer, become one of the
immortals.

Thus her lot was cast for her in her mother's home and plebeian circle
of acquaintance. So much the worse, it was supposed, for her prospects,
social and matrimonial. This did not distress her, but none the less was
the time that followed an unhappy one. The mother whom she had idolized,
and of whom she always remained excessively fond, appears to have been
something of a termagant in her later years. The heavy troubles of her
life had aggravated one of those irascible and uncontrollable tempers
that can only be soothed by superior violence. Aurore, saddened, gentle,
and submissive, only exasperated her. Her fitful affection and fitful
rages combined to make her daughter's life miserable, and to incline the
girl unconsciously to look over-favorably on any recognized mode of
escape that should present itself.

A long visit to the country-house of some friends near Melun, was hailed
as a real relief by both. Here there were young people, and plenty of
cheerful society. Aurore became like one of the family, and her mother
was persuaded to allow her to prolong her stay indefinitely. Among the
new acquaintance she formed whilst on this visit was one that decided
her future.

M. Casimir Dudevant was a young man on terms of intimacy with her hosts,
the Duplessis family. From the first he was struck by Mlle. Dupin, who
on his further acquaintance was not otherwise than pleased with him.
The sequel, before long, came in an offer of marriage on his part, which
she accepted with the approval of her friends.

He was seven-and-twenty, had served in the army, and studied for the
law; but had expectations which promised an independence. His father,
Colonel Dudevant, a landed proprietor in Gascony, whose marriage had
proved childless, had acknowledged Casimir, though illegitimate, and
made him his heir. It was reckoned not a brilliant _parti_ for the
_chatelaine_ of Nohant, but a perfectly eligible one. It was not a
_mariage de convenance_; the young people had chosen freely. Still less
was it a love match. Romantic sentiment--counted out of place in such
arrangements by the society they belonged to--seems not to have been
dreamed of on either side. But they had arranged it for themselves,
which to Aurore would naturally seem, as indeed it was, an improvement
on the usual mode of procedure, according to which the burden of choice
would have rested w