ret
of her fatal and ridiculous love, almost incredible energy. She raised
her head, looked at the smith calmly, almost serenely, and said to him in
a firm voice: "Ah! so, you truly love?"

"That is to say, my good sister, that, for the last four days, I scarcely
live at all--or live only upon this passion."

"It is only since four days that you have been in love?"

"Not more--but time has nothing to do with it."

"And is she very pretty?"

"Dark hair--the figure of a nymph--fair as a lily--blue eyes, as large as
that--and as mild, as good as your own."

"You flatter me, Agricola."

"No, no, it is Angela that I flatter--for that's her name. What a pretty
one! Is it not, my good Mother Bunch?"

"A charming name," said the poor girl, contrasting bitterly that graceful
appellation with her own nickname, which the thoughtless Agricola applied
to her without thinking of it. Then she resumed, with fearful calmness:
"Angela? yes, it is a charming name!"

"Well, then! imagine to yourself, that this name is not only suited to
her face, but to her heart. In a word, I believe her heart to be almost
equal to yours."

"She has my eyes--she has my heart," said Mother Bunch, smiling. "It is
singular, how like we are."

Agricola did not perceive the irony of despair contained in these words.
He resumed, with a tenderness as sincere as it was inexorable: "Do you
think, my good girl, that I could ever have fallen seriously in love with
any one, who had not in character, heart, and mind, much of you?"

"Come, brother," said the girl, smiling--yes, the unfortunate creature
had the strength to smile; "come, brother, you are in a gallant vein to
day. Where did you make the acquaintance of this beautiful young person?"

"She is only the sister of one of my mates. Her mother is the head
laundress in our common dwelling, and as she was in want of assistance,
and we always take in preference the relations of members of the
association, Mrs. Bertin (that's the mother's name) sent for her daughter
from Lille, where she had been stopping with one of her aunts, and, for
the last five days, she has been in the laundry. The first evening I saw
her, I passed three hours, after work was over, in talking with her, and
her mother and brother; and the next day, I felt that my heart was gone;
the day after that, the feeling was only stronger--and now I am quite mad
about her, and resolved on marriage--according as you shall decide. Do
not be