I don't know whether it was owing
to the moon or not, but the Vicomte did say such a lot of charming
things to me. He said he loved me, and would I marry him; he would
arrange it all, as fortunately he has no parents to consult.
I seem to be getting quite used to proposals now, because it did not
excite me in the least. But I don't think I want to marry any one yet,
Mamma; so I told him you would never let me marry a Frenchman, and he
had better forget all about me. He said as much about love as he could
in the ten minutes we were left talking together, and put it so
nicely--not a bit that violent want-to-eat-one-up-way the Marquis has.
I felt once or twice quite inclined to say yes, if only it had been an
affair of a week; but unfortunately, even in France, you have to stay
on with people longer than that, and that is the part I could not have
managed.
I made him understand at last that I really meant not to have him, and
he was very miserable. But you can't tear your hair or cry, with every
one looking on, and, as it all had to be done in a voice as if one was
talking about the weather, he did not show much.
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