Alete, satisfied beyond doubt by the respectful submission with which her Reproaches had been received, sprang to the neck of her betrothed, and said,

“But I love my dear Eric truly.  If I sometimes play the magnificent with him, it is to make him think that he has himself, in a noble epistle, called me his sovereign.  Is not this so, Eric?” added she, leaning toward him like a petted child.  “Do you not weary of my little wickednesses?  At present, you see, I use the remnant of my liberty:  when we are married, however, I shall be a model of obedience.”

The face of Eric had already become lighted up, and he kissed with pleasure the little hand placed in his.

Alete seemed to fear nothing so much as these sentimental manifestations, and took him into the room where the uncle and nephew had their political contest, and pausing before Ireneus, said,

“Cousin, permit me to introduce to you M. Eric Goldberg, Doctor of the University of Upsal, and a learned Grecian, who never in his life read a single line of the Journal des Modes, and cannot conceive of the difference between a good and bad tailor; who would not know how to hold a fan; or to perform a contradance, but who, in spite of all that, is one of the best fellows in the world, and is devoted to your cousin.”

After this singular introduction, a faint blush spread over the face of the young doctor.  A clasp of the hand, and an affectionate word, however, from Ireneus, put an end to all embarrassment.

“A strange girl,” said M. de Vermondans, following Alete with his eye as she hurried to the kitchen to take charge of the preparations for dinner.  “Is not that an odd introduction of her husband and lover?  She never does things, however, like other people.  Be seated, dear Eric, though, and tell me why we have not seen you for three days.  We had began to be uneasy about you, and Alete often looked toward the window.  Had you not come to-day, I should have sent to ask the reason.”

“My father has been a little unwell,” replied Eric; as he placed his hands, made red by the cold, near the stove.  “I had to remain to assist him in some of his duties, and to amuse him by reading to him.  This morning, as I learned that Monsieur—­Monsieur—­”

“Say at once your cousin,” said Ireneus, frankly.

“That my cousin” resumed the timid Eric, with more confidence, “had arrived, I was unwilling to remain longer away, and my father was kind enough not to wish to retain me.”

As the Upsal student pronounced these few simple words, Ireneus observed him, and discovered in his face such an expression of kindness, and in his clear blue eyes such intelligence that he felt a real sympathy for him.

“I thank you,” said he, “for thinking of me before you knew me.  I hope that when we shall be acquainted you will grant me a portion of the love you have conferred on my family.  I am already disposed to love you as a cousin.”