She sat there, thinking of it till the night was half-spent, and when she crept up cold to bed, she had almost made up her mind that it would be best for her to do as her uncle wished.  As for loving the man, that was out of the question.  But then would it not be better to do without love altogether?

CHAPTER VIII.

‘How is it to be?’ said Michel to his niece the next morning.  The question was asked downstairs in the little room, while Urmand was sitting at table in the chamber above waiting for the landlord.  Michel Voss had begun to feel that his visitor would be very heavy on hand, having come there as a visitor and not as a man of business, unless he could be handed over to the woman-kind.  But no such handing over would be possible, unless Marie would acquiesce.  ‘How is it to be?’ Michel asked.  He had so prepared himself that he was ready in accordance with a word or a look from his niece either to be very angry, thoroughly imperious, and resolute to have his way with the dependent girl, or else to be all smiles, and kindness, and confidence, and affection.  There was nothing she should not have, if she would only be amenable to reason.

‘How is what to be, Uncle Michel?’ said Marie.

The landlord thought that he discovered an indication of concession in his niece’s voice, and began immediately to adapt himself to the softer courses.  ’Well, Marie, you know what it is we all wish.  I hope you understand that we love you well, and think so much of you, that we would not intrust you to any one living, who did not bear a high character and seem to deserve you.’  He was looking into Marie’s face as he spoke, and saw that she was soft and thoughtful in her mood, not proud and scornful as she had been on the preceding evening.  ’You have grown up here with us, Marie, till it has almost come upon us with surprise that you are a beautiful young woman, instead of a great straggling girl.’

‘I wish I was a great straggling girl still.’

’Do not say that, my darling.  We must all take the world as it is, you know.  But here you are, and of course it is my duty and your aunt’s duty—­’ it was always a sign of high good humour on the part of Michel Voss, when he spoke of his wife as being anybody in the household—­’my duty and your aunt’s duty to see and do the best for you.’

‘You have always done the best for me in letting me be here.’

’Well, my dear, I hope so.  You had to be here, and you fell into this way of life naturally.  But sometimes, when I have seen you waiting on the people about the house, I’ve thought it wasn’t quite right.’

’I think it was quite right.  Peter couldn’t do it all, and he’d be sure to make a mess of it.’

’We must have two Peters; that’s all.  But as I was saying, that kind of thing was natural enough before you were grown up, and had become—­what shall I say?—­such a handsome young woman.’  Marie laughed, and turned up her nose and shook her head; but it may be presumed that she received some comfort from her uncle’s compliments.  ’And then I began to see, and your aunt began to see, that it wasn’t right that you should spend your life handing soup to the young men here.’