Paris and Holland | Page 7

wants to marry me to a wealthy Dunkirk
merchant, whom I do not know, but (mark this) whom she does not
know any more than I do. The matrimonial agent has praised him very
much, and very naturally, as a man must praise his own goods. This
gentleman is satisfied with an income of twelve hundred francs per
annum, but he promises to leave me in his will no less than a hundred
and fifty thousand francs. You must know that by my mother's will my
aunt is obliged to pay me on my wedding day twenty-five thousand
crowns.
"If what has taken place between us has not made me contemptible in
your sight, I offer you my hand and heart with sixty-five thousand
francs, and as much more on my aunt's death.
"Don't send me any answer, as I don't know how or by whom to receive
your letter. You can answer me in your own person next Sunday at
Madame Lambertini's. You will thus have four days whereon to
consider this most important question. I do not exactly know whether I
love you, but I am quite sure that I prefer you to any other man. I know
that each of us has still to gain the other's esteem, but I am sure you
would make my life a happy one, and that I should be a faithful wife. If
you think that the happiness I seek can add to your own, I must warn
you that you will need the aid of a lawyer, as my aunt is miserly, and
will stick at trifles.
"If you decide in the affirmative you must find a convent for me to take
refuge in before I commit myself to anything, as otherwise I should be
exposed to the harsh treatment I wish to avoid. If, on the other hand,
my proposal does not meet your views, I have one favour to ask by

granting which you will earn my everlasting gratitude. This is that you
will endeavour to see me no more, and will take care not to be present
in any company in which you think I am to be found. Thus you will
help me to forget you, and this is the least you can do for me. You may
guess that I shall never be happy till I have become your wife or have
forgotten you. Farewell! I reckon upon seeing you on Sunday."
This letter affected me. I felt that it was dictated by prudent, virtuous,
and honourable feelings, and I found even more merit in the intellectual
endowments of the girl than in her beauty. I blushed at having in a
manner led her astray, and I should have thought myself worthy of
punishment if I had been capable of refusing the hand offered to me
with so much nobility of feeling. And a second but still a powerful
consideration made me look complacently upon a fortune larger than I
could reasonably expect to win. Nevertheless, the idea of the marriage
state, for which I felt I had no vocation, made me tremble.
I knew myself too well not to be aware that as a married man I should
be unhappy, and, consequently, with the best intentions I should fail in
making the woman's life a happy one. My uncertainty in the four days
which she had wisely left me convinced me that I was not in love with
her. In spite of that, so weak was I that I could not summon up courage
to reject her offer--still less to tell her so frankly, which would have
made her esteem me.
During these four days I was entirely absorbed in this one subject. I
bitterly repented of having outraged her modesty, for I now esteemed
and respected her, but yet I could not make up my mind to repair the
wrong I had done her. I could not bear to incur her dislike, but the idea
of tying myself down was dreadful to me; and such is the condition of a
man who has to choose between two alternatives, and cannot make up
his mind.
Fearing lest my evil genius should take me to the opera or elsewhere,
and in spite of myself make me miss my appointment, I resolved to
dine with the Lambertini without having come to any decision. The
pious niece of the Pope was at mass when I reached her house. I found
Tiretta engaged in playing on the flute, but as soon as he saw me he

dropped the instrument, ran up to me, embraced me, and gave me back
the money his suit had cost me.
"I see you are in cash, old fellow; I congratulate you."
"It's a grievous piece of luck to me, for the money is stolen,