LAbbe Constantin, vol 3 | Page 6

was speaking of you. So when I was alone with him during our walks, to please him I talked of you, and he related your history to me. You are well off; you are very well off; from Government you receive every month two hundred and thirteen francs and some centimes; am I correct?"
"Yes," said Jean, deciding to bear with a good grace his share in the Cure's indiscretions.
"You have eight thousand francs' income?"
"Nearly, not quite."
"Add to that your house, which is worth thirty thousand francs. You are in an excellent position, and people have asked your hand."
"Asked my hand! No, no."
"They have, they have, twice, and you have refused two very good marriages, two very good fortunes, if you prefer it--it is the same thing for so many people. Two hundred thousand francs in the one, three hundred thousand in the other case. It appears that these fortunes are enormous for the country! Yet you have refused! Tell me why."
"Well, it concerned two charming young girls."
"That is understood. One always says that."
"But whom I scarcely knew. They forced me--for I did resist--they forced me to spend two or three evenings with them last winter."
"And then?"
"Then--I don't quite know how to explain it to you. I did not feel the slightest touch of embarrassment, emotion, anxiety, or disturbance--"
"In fact," said Bettina, resolutely, "not the least suspicion of love."
"No, not the least, and I returned quite calmly to my bachelor den, for I think it is better not to marry than to marry without love."
"And I think so, too."
She looked at him, he looked at her, and suddenly, to the great surprise of both, they found nothing more to say, nothing at all.
At this moment Harry and Bella rushed into the room, with cries of joy.
"Monsieur Jean! Are you there? Come and see our ponies!"
"Ah!" said Bettina, her voice a little uncertain, "Edwards has just come back from Paris, and has brought two microscopic ponies for the children. Let us go to see them, shall we?"
They went to see the ponies, which were indeed worthy to figure in the stables of the King of Lilliput.

CHAPTER VIII
ANOTHER MARTYR TO MILLIONS
Three weeks have glided by; another day and Jean will be obliged to leave with his regiment for the artillery practice. He will lead the life of a soldier. Ten days' march on the highroad going and returning, and ten days in the camp at Cercottes in the forest of Orleans. The regiment will return to Souvigny on the 10th of August.
Jean is no longer tranquil; Jean is no longer happy. He sees approach with impatience, and at the same time with terror, the moment of his departure. With impatience--for he suffers an absolute martyrdom, he longs to escape from it; with terror--for to pass twenty days without seeing her, without speaking to her, without her in a word--what will become of him? Her! It is Bettina; he adores her!
Since when? Since the first day, since that meeting in the month of May in the Cure's garden. That is the truth; but Jean struggles against and resists that truth. He believes that he has only loved Bettina since the day when the two chatted gayly, amicably, in the little drawing-room. She was sitting on the blue couch near the widow, and, while talking, amused herself with repairing the disorder of the dress of a Japanese princess, one of Bella's dolls, which she had left on a chair, and which Bettina had mechanically taken up.
Why had the fancy come to Miss Percival to talk to him of those two young girls whom he might have married? The question of itself was not at all embarrassing to him. He had replied that, if he had not then felt any taste for marriage, it was because his interviews with these two girls had not caused him any emotion or any agitation. He had smiled in speaking thus, but a few minutes after he smiled no more. This emotion, this agitation, he had suddenly learned to know them. Jean did not deceive himself; he acknowledged the depth of the wound; it had penetrated to his very heart's core.
Jean, however, did not abandon himself to this emotion. He said to himself:
"Yes, it is serious, very serious, but I shall recover from it."
He sought an excuse for his madness; he laid the blame on circumstances. For ten days this delightful girl had been too much with him, too much with him alone! How could he resist such a temptation? He was intoxicated with her charm, with her grace and beauty. But the next day a troop of visitors would arrive at Longueval, and there would be an end of this dangerous intimacy. He would have courage; he would keep at a distance; he would lose himself in the crowd,