Girardière thought his friend made very useless reflections; and again endeavoured to change the subject.

"These young ladies are all three old enough, and you have not yet thought of marrying them!"

"Oh yes, indeed, I think a great deal of it sometimes !—but it is not an easy matter, when there is no dower to be given— and, really, I am very sorry, but I can give nothing to my daughters, for I have but just enough to live upon. Parents who strip themselves of every thing for their children are fools, and may look for much trouble in their old age. Whoever would marry my daughters, must marry them for themselves, or not at all-I can say no more!"

They will be married, my dear Lapoucette-husbands will present themselves, do not doubt it."

"In the mean time, suppose we adjourn to dinner!"

Girardière was placed between Laurence and Anna, the two eldest daughters, who lavished attentions on their papa's old friend. There seemed to be a rivalry in the family, as to who should show him the greatest kindness. The papa was incessantly filling his glass, the mamma continually loading his plate: Laurence passed him the salt, Anna expressed her fear that the feet of the table might annoy him, and the little Cecilia offered him, with laughter, some girkins and pickled onions. Even the aunts, who were both upwards of fifty, caused the doors to be shut carefully behind him, asking him if he would like a stool under his feet, and whether he felt the draught from the window. Girardière did not know who to attend to

"What kind people!-what a charming family! The girls have no dower it is true, but they have beauty, amiability, accomplishments, and above all-qualities-besides, I know Lapoucette; he is a jolly fellow, quite at his ease. He will give nothing at present to his daughters-but when he dies, they will at any rate have something!-that they cannot fail of!"

Girardière forgot that he was the same age as Lapoucette, and that, consequently, it was very absurd in him, to build hopes on his demise-but, as we have said at the commencement of this veritable history, Theophilus Girardière was determined never to be more than thirty-from always affecting to be young, he finished by persuading himself that he really was so-like those persons who, by force of reiterating lies, adopt them at last for truths.

The daughters of M. Lapoucette were all very amiable, and remarkably gay. One, as she laughed, displayed a set of teeth ranged like pearls; the other had eyes whose expression was altogether piquant; and the last had a voice of such sweetness, that you felt moved merely at hearing her speak.

Girardière directed his regards incessantly from one to the other of the three young ladies.

"Shall I demand the eldest?-the youngest is very seducing!Mademoiselle Anna overwhelms me with little attentions !—It is very embarrassing!-Oh! if we were but in Turkey, I would marry them all three ""

"You are neither eating nor drinking," said Lapoucette, surprised at the distraction of his old friend. "Formerly you managed better!-what the deuce are you thinking about?—you are looking at the ceiling! Have you got the tooth-ache ?"

"No, my dear friend, I have no ache at all-and I assure you that I am dining famously. Your daughters are so kind to me! I am quite enchanted!"

"That ought not to prevent you eating. In old times you were such a boon companion! Do you remember when we dined together at the house famous for sheep's-feet ?-It is now a first rate hotel, the Vendanges de Bourgogne.-It was then but a simple tavern. We often went there on Sundays!-It must be five-and-twenty years ago-perhaps seven-and-twenty.'

"May I trouble you for a little more chicken!" cried Girardière, who was resolved rather to make himself ill, than allow his friend to remind him of his youthful adventures. And Theophilus began eating again, exclaiming,

"Excellent chicken!-delicious bird!-perfectly roasted!" But Lapoucette persisted in seeking out dates, and repeated again:

"It must be at least seven-and-twenty years ago—for I was not married till a long time after."

"Some wine if you please!-may I trouble you for some wine!" cried Girardière, presenting his glass, "your wine is excellent-it is really very good-I am considered a judge!"

"In good time then!-now you are in train," said Lapoucette, helping his friend.

Poor Girardière swallowed it, inwardly exclaiming,

"If he continue talking of the past, I shall certainly give myself an indigestion."

At last dinner was over, and the company adjourned to the drawing room. Mademoiselle Laurence played the piano agreeably, Anna shewed her drawings, Cecilia sang with tasteGirardière was astonished-transported.

"Which shall I fix upon," thought he, scratching his forehead. "Ah! if polygamy were not forbidden!-but I must decide without delay, or some one may come and demand the one I choose." You may observe that Theophilus was quite persuaded he had but to make his choice, though the refusals he had already experienced ought to have made him less confident, less presumptuous; but men are not always corrected by experience; they are but too often incorrigible;

Naturam expellas furcâ tamen usque recurret.

After having considered, examined, scrutinized the Demoiselles

Lapoucette, Girardière at last came to a decision, and you must not imagine that it was in favour of the eldest, which at least ould have been more reasonable;-no, indeed-"Decidedly," said he to himself, "I will marry Cecilia!-she is bewitching."

Approaching his old friend, Girardière addressed him in a low voice and veryimpressive manner:

"I should much like I have a great desire to see

My dear friend," replied M. Lapoucette, interrupting him, 'you shall have a light-I divine what you want."

"It is not that at all, my dear Lapoucette, I wish to speak a moment with you-let us retire for an instant into your studyor into your bedchamber, if you have not a study or the antichamber will do."

"Are you unwell-will you have a glass of sugar and waterwould you like some tea made?"

"No-no-you mistake me again, I repeat that I desire to speak of something very important, and we must first discuss it in private."

Lapoucette, much surprised, and not understanding what his old friend could have to tell him in secret, took a light, and retired with him into another room. There, regarding him with a look of inquietude,

"Well, what have you to say?" he demanded: "are they going to reduce the funds to two per cent?"

"It has nothing to do with that.—I wish chiefly to speak to you about myself. Listen, my dear Lapoucette; since we last saw each other, a great change has taken place in me.'

"Yes, indeed-I do find you changed-the crow's foot is visible."

"It is not that at all. Do me the favour to listen:-you are aware that I was for a long time rather headstrong, rather volatile. -In short, the fair sex caused me to commit a thousand follies, a thousand extravagancies!"

"I do not recollect it--but it is all one, proceed!

Well then, my friend, I am no longer the Joconde, the Faublas, who had no thought but of pleasure; I have become more steady, more reasonable-I am indeed very steady."

Parbleu! it is quite necessary to reform with age.'

"Allow me the honour of explaining myself. I will go directly to the end, my dear Lapoucette-I desire to be married-I renounce the follies of a bachelor's life-I wish for the future only to occupy myself with my wife, and the children which heaven will doubtless accord me.— This must be the sweetest felicity for man!" "Ah! you desire to marry!-Faith, you will not do badlyit is time, high time for you to think about it; but I do not see why you should have made such a mystery to me of this disclosure.'

“You shall see, Lapoucette, I will explain. I am not particular

VOL. I.

X

about fortune-I have enough to maintain a wife!—but I wish to meet with one who will please me-whom I shall please, and—” "One who will please you is very possible-but one whom you shall please, is something more more difficult, my old friend." "Lapoucette will you hear me;-I have just made my choice; -I have just found her who is formed to embellish my existence -and it is for this, I demand the hand of your daughter,-of the ravishing Cecilia!"

M. Lapoucette opened his eyes and regarded his friend with astonishment.

"Ah! bah!-are you speaking seriously?"

Very seriously;-give me your consent, and to-morrow we will occupy ourselves with the marriage."

"You wish to marry one of my daughters-you, Girardière?” "What is there surprising in that?"

"What is there surprising!-you do not reflect my poor friend! -you are much too old for my daughter!"

"Too old!-it is you-who know not what you say ;—I am in the prime of life."

"You are at least fifty!

"It is not true-I am not quite forty-nine."

"And you want to marry a young girl of fifteen-for you have precisely pitched upon the youngest-ah! ah! ah! you are mad, my old friend, you are mad!"

"Well then, listen Lapoucette, if you think Cecilia rather too young, I will marry the second, Mademoiselle Anna-she will also suit me very well."

But Anna is only eighteen!-think, that in ten years, she will still be very young, and you!"

Stop then-would you prefer to give me the eldest?—It is all the same to me-I will take the eldest-she suits me perfectly."

66

They seem all to suit you!-Ah! ah!-poor Girardière !—to think that you should want to become my son!"

"I did not think you would regret to see me in your family," replied Theophilus, raising his head with a piqued air.

Regret certainly not!-and if you were fifteen-or perhaps, twenty years younger!"

"You refuse me then for a son-in-law?"

"Ha! ha!-it seems so droll to hear you demanding one of my daughters. But I will not refuse you!-Oh!-I will not refuse you! I will take care not to refuse you!"

"Dear Lapoucette !"-and Girardière took his friend's hand, and pressed it with warmth.

"If either of my daughters will accept you-I will give my consent willingly. But they will refuse you, old boy!-Ha! ha! -they will say-No!"

"Lapoucette, do me the favour not to call me 'old boy';-in

the first place, it is a vulgar expression-and in the second, I do not like it."

"Ha! ha!-you imagine that one of my daughters will accept you!"

"I dare to hope so-they have treated me with so much kindness-with so much amiability!"

"Because they regard you as an old friend of their father!and you have mistaken their little attentions-their hearty welcome, for the flirtations-the coquetries of women.-You think you have effected their conquest!-Ah! my old friend, I should have thought you more reasonable.-Nevertheless-come, and I will present you to the young ladies as an aspirant to the hand of one of them-and your affair will be quickly decided!"

"At any rate, do not joke about it;-remember Lapoucette, that my demand is serious."

"Be satisfied!-I am sure your proposition will not cause my daughters to laugh!-but I promise you not to influence themI even swear it!"

M. Lapoucette returned into the drawing-room with his friend. The three young ladies began to play and laugh with Girardière; -one tried to make him sing;-the other proposed to dance a galop with him;-the youngest wanted him to waltz round the room with her. Girardière was enchanted.-He looked at his friend with an air which signified:

"See how I am treated!-how I am made much of!-Your daughters have a different way of thinking from yourself!—they will willingly accept me."

M. Lapoucette demanded a moment's attention, and in a serious

tone:

"My children," said he, "it is not merely to visit his old friends, that Girardière has returned amongst us. He has another aim-he has formed the project of uniting himself more intimately with our family-in short, he desires to marry;-and he has done me the honour to demand the hand of one of my daughters."

The three young ladies ceased their merriment :-they regarded their parents with a stupified air;-exchanged looks with each other, and studiously avoided the scrutiny of Girardière.

M. Lapoucette waited for a reply from one of his daughters; but all kept a sad silence;-what had just been announced had petrified them. At last however, the youngest, after the expira tion of several minutes, exclaimed:

"Ah! it is all fun !-I am quite sure it is all fun!-Papa and this gentleman have been in the other room, and they have made a plan to entrap us. M. Girardière does not want to marry-to marry one of us!"

Ladies," said Girardière, posing himself academically," I assure you that your father has told you the truth.-You are all three charming-and as it would be difficult for me to make a