Again you complain of my silence, in a letter written with the object of overwhelming me with abuse; and you mix up sarcasms (through which your childish curiosity is very transparent) with philosophical remarks which reveal the snobbishness of your nature. In fact, from the tone of your letters, one might imagine I was threatened by strange complications, and that you were hoping every morning to read the account of some catastrophe. For once in a way your longing for an important event will not be disappointed, for I have a weighty piece of news for you. As it belongs to the most strictly moral order of events, you may listen without any anxiety.

As you are aware, my aunt and uncle came to Paris a fortnight ago, and will stay here all the winter. The house in the Rue de Varennes has resumed its gay honours; we give receptions, dinners, and everything else that you are familiar with, but embellished this time by the presence of the charming Countess of Monteclaro, who supplies that lively element of family life which we rather missed formerly. My aunt has discovered here a young cousin of hers, Count Daniel Kiusko, a capital fellow, whom I have quite made friends with.

Having given you these details, I will now proceed with my story.

The other morning, after breakfast, as I was about to return to my room (for whatever you may believe, I am working hard just now), my uncle stopped me, and without any further preliminaries began:

“By the way, Andre, I expect Madame Saulnier and my god-daughter Anna Campbell, your betrothed, to dinner this, evening. I should not mind letting you make her acquaintance. If you happen to be curious to see her, don’t make any engagements at the club, and come home punctually.”

“Really!” exclaimed my aunt with a laugh, and without giving me time to answer: “from the way you put it, one might think you were talking of some doll that you intended to offer Andre for his birthday!”

“What the deuce do you mean by that, my dear?” asked the captain in his imperturbable way.

“I mean,” said my aunt, “that this little acquaintance which you wish they should make with each other before you marry them, seems to me a very necessary preliminary.”

“Pooh! They’ve still a good year before them! Besides, this little matter has nothing to do with romance.” Then turning to me he continued; “Well, if that suits you for to-day, I have given you notice.”

“Capital!” added my aunt. “Well, Andre! How does it suit you?”

“Why, aunt,” I said, laughing in my turn at their little dispute; “I think my uncle may rely equally with you upon the pleasure it will give me.”

“All right, that’s settled!” continued my aunt in an inimitable tone of hilarity; “at seven o’clock punctually, my dear nephew, you will come and fall in love.”

My uncle took no more notice of this last ironical shaft than of the rest, but occupied himself with selecting a cigar, remarking that what he had were too dry. My aunt availed herself of the opportunity of continuing her conversation with me.

“Between you and me,” she said, “I may tell you that you are not much to be pitied, for she is a charming girl, and you would really lose a good deal by not making her acquaintance.”

“I was only waiting for my uncle to decide the question.”

“You must at any rate be grateful to him for letting you meet by chance before your wedding-day,” she continued.

“Oh, dear! one might think I wanted to marry them at a minute’s notice!” said my uncle at these words. “Just like a woman’s exaggerations! Perhaps you would have liked me to have introduced her to him before my last voyage, when she was a lass of fourteen, thin, awkward, and gawkish, as you all are at that age.”

“Thanks; why don’t you say monkeys while you are about it?” replied my aunt with a curtsey.

But my uncle intended to make a speech of it, and continued:

“Who would have left in his mind the disagreeable recollection of a small, flat, angular creature, with arms like flutes, and hands and feet as long as that!”

“Poor little creature! I shudder at the thought of it! However, in your ineffable wisdom, you have fattened her up with mystery.”

“Ta, ta, ta!” continued my uncle; “I have made a fine, healthy, solid young woman of her, who promises to make just the right sort of wife for Andre! And I maintain, in spite of your ideas on the subject, that I have done well to bring them up at a distance from each other, in order to preserve the freshness of their feelings, and avoid the necessity of that awkward and painful transformation of the affections which is so difficult for a couple who have grown up together and eaten their bread and butter together as brats in the nursery. To-day they will find each other just as they ought to before they become husband and wife. All the rest of the business must be left to them. If they like each other very much they will make a love-match, if not, a mariage de raison, which is just as good.”

My uncle having concluded thus, it only remained for me to signify my compliance with his wishes. As you may well understand, I awaited with impatience the hour for this first interview, and I was in the drawing-room that evening some time before my fiancee’s arrival. My aunt was in the heaven of delight, just like every woman looking forward to a romantic incident, and she did not fail to remark my eagerness. As to the captain, like a being superior to such sentimental trifles, he was quietly reading his paper. He was just commencing a political discussion when the servant opened the folding doors and announced:

“Madame Saulnier and Mademoiselle Campbell.”

To tell the truth, I must admit that I felt somewhat nervous. A lady of about forty years old came in, accompanied by a young person in a regulation convent dress. I stood up, while my uncle went forward to meet his god-daughter, and kissed her affectionately on the forehead. Then he led me to her by the hand, in a dignified and ceremonious manner, and said without more ado:

“Anna, this is Andre! Andre, this is Anna! Kiss each other!”

This form of introduction, with its laconic precision, had at least the advantage that it left no uncertainty between us, and at once indicated to us our proper course of procedure. Too well trained to my uncle’s habits, I did not hesitate a moment, but kissed my betrothed; after which I said, “How do you do?” which, of course, gave me a nice opportunity of looking at her.

Anna Campbell is at the present time just seventeen. She is neither short nor tall, thin nor stout although the great blue ribbon which she wears over her neck, with a cross suspended from it, already sets off the plump outlines of her bosom. She is neither fair nor dark; her chin is round, her face oval, her nose, mouth, and forehead are all medium-sized, and she has rather pretty blue eyes. Generally speaking, she is more pleasant-looking than handsome, and her features on the whole suggest a very gentle disposition united with good health. My uncle took care to impress upon me that she will continue to develop, since her feet and hands are still large for her age, and promise a handsome completion of her growth.

In short, my lot is far from a disagreeable one quite the contrary. As my uncle expresses it, “All the symptoms are good.”

Our dinner was a very lively one. Anna Campbell, although rather subdued in my presence, did not show any embarrassment. Nothing seemed to be new to her; her manners and deportment, and everything about her, revealed the familiar assurance of a child of the family who had come to take a holiday there, and felt herself as much at home as I did. I perceived that she knew the house as well as if she had been brought up in it, and I learnt that during the time when I was at college she and Madame Saulnier had really lived there for three years.

The result of all this was that Anna Campbell exhibited a pleasant sort of familiarity with my aunt and uncle which I did not at all expect to see. Brought up away from each other, and without any previous acquaintance, we were now meeting for the first time at this common centre of our affections, which, unknown to us, had united us since our childhood. This was both original and sweet to think of.

Once, when my uncle asked for the pickles, Anna said:

“They are near Andre.”

When the meal was over we left the dining-room. Following a Russian fashion which my aunt had introduced among us, when we entered the drawing-room, I pressed her hand to my lips, while she kissed me on the forehead. Anna did the same; then, without even appearing to think what she was doing, she quietly held up her two cheeks for me to kiss, and afterwards offered them to her godfather. She then ran to the piano, and sat down to it, while we were taking our coffee.

“Well, what do you think of her?” my uncle asked me.

“She is very nice,” I replied.

“Yes, isn’t she? Just the thing for you, my boy,” he observed, as he stirred his cup, with the tranquillity of a pure conscience. “Go and talk with her,” he continued; “you will find she is not stupid.”

I went to sit down by Anna.

“Come, play the bass!” she said, moving aside to make room for me, as if we had often played in duet together before.

When the piece was finished, we talked about her convent, her friends, and the Mother Superior, Sainte Lucie, whom she was much attached to; and she spoke about everything in a confident tone of familiarity, which showed me that she had often talked of me, and had been used to think of me as an absent brother. The understanding is that, on account of her youth, our betrothal is to remain a family secret, which will only be made public when the right time arrives.

The evening concluded without any other special incident. At ten o’clock Anna went home to her convent. As she was putting her things on, she held out her hand to me, and said:

“Good-bye, Andre!”

“Good-bye, Anna!” I replied; and then my uncle took me away with him to the club, where he sat down to his party at whist.

While I am on the subject of my uncle, I must tell you about an adventure which he has just had. He is dead, as you are aware, for I have inherited his property. This privilege he will not give up, because the registration fees have been paid. The result of this peculiar situation is that he is under certain legal incapacities, which, without troubling him more seriously, do nevertheless cause him some annoyance. Three months ago at Ferouzat, he had to renew his gun-license, which he had taken out seven years before; but as his decease had been formally entered at the prefecture, they would not accept this document, bearing the signature of a defunct person. As you may imagine, he did very well without it, and began to shoot as if nothing had happened!

The other morning, however, it chanced, as my uncle was passing our banker’s, that he wanted to draw twenty thousand francs for his pocket-money. The cashier, who had known him years ago, was very much surprised to see him in the flesh, but represented to him that it was now quite impossible for him to open an account in his name, as he was legally dead and buried. My uncle, like a law-abiding man, admitted the justice of this observation, and I had to intervene in order to arrange the matter for him. He took no further notice of it; only as he never does anything by halves, he had his visiting cards printed with “The late Barbassou” on them; and this was the way he signed himself at our banker’s, by which means he pretended that he conformed with all requirements.

“You see how simple the whole thing is,” he said to me.

My amours with Kondje-Gul have certainly taken a very remarkable turn. The other day I took her to Versailles for an educational and historical excursion; she is continuing her course of civilization, you know. After visiting the palace and the museum, we went into the park. She was in the best of spirits, still excited with the fresh air and freedom which she was enjoying like an escaped prisoner from the harem, and was asking me questions about everything with that charming simplicity of hers which delights me so much, when we arrived in front of Diana’s Bath, where we found a group of three young women most brilliantly dressed, two of whom, as I saw at the first glance, were old acquaintances of mine, very well known in the gay world. Young Lord B accompanied them, and they all recognised me; but Lord B , with the well-bred tact of a man of the world, seeing the company I was in, only nodded slightly to me. With like discretion, as is usual on such occasions, the women made no movement of recognition; yet they could not help being struck no doubt with the remarkable beauty of my companion evincing such evident curiosity, that Kondje-Gul observed it. I, of course, passed without appearing to notice them. Kondje-Gul and I then took a turn up the walk, while I expounded the mythology of the bath to her, and then we went out.

“Who are those ladies?” she asked me as soon as we were at a good distance from them; “they know you, I could see.”

“Oh, yes,” I replied in an indifferent tone, “I have met them several times.”

“And the young man who was with them also looked at you as if he was one of your friends; why did not you speak to him?”

“For discretion’s sake, because you were with me, and he was walking with them.”

“Ah! I understand,” she said; “no doubt they are the women of his harem?”

“Just so,” I answered quite coolly, “and, as I have often told you, according to our customs, the harem is always ”

I was trying to think of the right word, when she burst out laughing quite loud.

“What are you laughing at, you silly thing?” I asked.

“I am laughing at all those stories about your harems which you still make up for me just as you used to do for that idiot Hadidje. I listen to them all, because, whatever does it matter to me now that I love you! I prefer the happiness of remaining your slave to that of these women, who have no doubt been your mistresses, and whom you don’t even condescend to notice when you meet them.”

“What?” I exclaimed in astonishment; “have you got to know so much already, you little humbug, and have concealed it from me?”

“After all you have given me to read to form my mind according to your ideas, surely it was natural that I should some day discover the truth! I only waited for an opportunity of confirming my new knowledge,” she continued with a smile. “There are still a lot of things in your country which I cannot understand. But you will teach me them now, won’t you?” she added in a coaxing tone.

“Oh, you young flirt! It seems to me you know everything already!”

“Why, yes, I feel I know that, for all you may say, I am still no more than a curious toy in your eyes a strange creature, like some rare bird that you are rather fond of, perhaps, for her pretty plumage.”

“Ah! you’re right upon the last point at any rate!” I replied with a laugh.

“Yes, sir!” she continued in a satisfied tone of pride, “I know that I am handsome! Now don’t laugh at me,” she added with a charming reproachful look; “what I have to say is quite serious, for it comes from my heart. I was born for a different life, for different sentiments to yours, and I know that I possess none of those qualities which they say make the women of your country so attractive. Their ideas and associations are very different to mine, which you call the superstitions of a young barbarian, and which I want to forget in order to learn to understand you and to have no rivals.”

“Are you quite sure that you would not lose by the change?”

“Thank you,” said Kondje-Gul; “that’s what I call a compliment.”

“The fact is,” I replied, “the very thing I like about you is that you do not in any way resemble the women whom we have just met.”

“Oh!” she said, with an indescribable gesture of pride, “it’s not those women I envy! But I see others whom I would like to resemble in their manners and tone, of course. If you’re a nice fellow, do you know what you will do for me?”

“What?”

“It’s a dream, a scheme which I have been continually thinking over. You won’t laugh at me, will you?”

“No. Let’s hear your grand scheme.”

“Well, then, if you would like to make me very happy, place me for a few months in one of those convents where your young ladies are educated. You would come and see me every day, so that I should not be too dull away from you.”

“That’s the queerest idea I have ever heard from you; fancy a Mahommedan girl at a convent!” I said, with a laugh.

I took a great deal of trouble in explaining to her what a foolish project this was; but the result of my attempts at demonstrating the serious obstacles which such ambitious aspirations would encounter, was that in the end I myself entered into her views. The experiment might indeed prove a most instructive one. With Kondje-Gul’s character, there was an extremely interesting psychological experiment before me. I had found her to be endowed with marvellous natural qualities. With her ardour and enthusiasm, what would be the effect upon her simple imagination of a sudden transition from the ideas of the harem to the subtle refinements of our own society?

Certainly, I was obliged to admit that such a trial was not without its dangers; but then, was not Kondje-Gul already aware that the marital yoke which my houris still believed in was only imaginary? And was it not better, such being the case, for me to complete this work of regeneration, the fruits of which I should in the end reap for myself?

So I submitted to Kondje-Gul’s wishes, and as soon as we returned to Paris this important matter was settled.

The next day I began to look for the means of carrying it into execution, a search which was attended, however, with a good many difficulties.