accomplishments. She waited quietly till he reached the end of the epistle, (a certain passage of which, regarding the false marriage, he had the precaution to omit,) and then settling herself firmly on her feet, putting her two hands in the pockets of her apron, and fixing her bright black eyes on the Marquis, she said, "Or, écoutez, if this woman comes here, I'll poison her!"
"Bah!" said the Marquis. "You're joking."
"Vous croyez?" said Dorothée. "You had better not put me to the proof. For three long years you have been courting me—it was but last night you entreated me to accept your hand—"
"And you refused it," said the Marquis.
"No matter," answered she, "I mightn't always have refused it. Perhaps, I came here this morning with certain intentions—I shall not say what, now—Ou n'avoue pas toujours ses sentimens; et puisque vous me traitez ainsi, vous ne les saurez jamais!" And passion here supplied the fountains that grief would have left dry.
"Mais, belle Dorothée !" said Querubin, who was at a loss to find an argument against the tears, "Señora de mi alma!"
