For some time a young engineer, employed in surveys along the Rhone, had made the village of Beaucaire the centre of his operations.

Being handsome, agreeable, and of polished manners, he had been warmly welcomed by the neighboring society, and the countess frequently met him at the houses of her friends where she went to play cards in the evenings.

This young engineer was named Andre Fauvel.

The first time he met Valentine he was struck by her beauty, and after once looking into her large, melancholy eyes, his admiration deepened into love; a love so earnest and passionate, that he felt that he could never be happy without her.

Before being introduced to her, his heart had surrendered itself to her charms.

He was wealthy; a splendid career was open to him, he was free; and he swore that Valentine should be his.

He confided all his matrimonial plans to an old friend of Mme. de la Verberie, who was as noble as a Montmorency, and as poor as Job.

With the precision of a graduate of the polytechnic school, he had enumerated all his qualifications for being a model son-in-law.

For a long time the old lady listened to him without interruption; but, when he had finished, she did not hesitate to tell him that his pretensions were presumptuous.

What! he, a man of no pedigree, a Fauvel, a common surveyor, to aspire to the hand of a La Verberie!

After having enumerated all the superior advantages of that superior order of beings, the nobility, she condescended to take a common-sense view of the case, and said: 

“However, you may succeed.  The poor countess owes money in every direction; not a day passes without the bailiffs calling upon her; so that, you understand, if a rich suitor appeared, and agreed to her terms for settlements—­well, well, there is no knowing what might happen.”

Andre Fauvel was young and sentimental:  the insinuations of the old lady seemed to him preposterous.

On reflection, however, when he had studied the character of the nobility in the neighborhood, who were rich in nothing but prejudices, he clearly saw that pecuniary considerations alone would be strong enough to decide the proud Countess de la Verberie to grant him her daughter’s hand.

This certainly ended his hesitations, and he turned his whole attention to devising a plan for presenting his claim.

He did not find this an easy thing to accomplish.  To go in quest of a wife with her purchase-money in his hand was repugnant to his feelings, and contrary to his ideas of delicacy.  But he had no one to urge his suit for him on his own merits; so he was compelled to shut his eyes to the distasteful features of his task, and treat his passion as a matter of business.

The occasion so anxiously awaited, to explain his intentions, soon presented itself.

One day he entered a hotel at Beaucaire, and, as he sat down to dinner, he saw that Mme. de la Verberie was at the adjoining table.  He blushed deeply, and asked permission to sit at her table, which was granted with a most encouraging smile.