ay of me if we kept you at home to drudge for us, instead of settling you out in the world properly?  You forget, Marie, that I have a duty to perform, and you should not make it so difficult.’

‘But if I don’t want to be settled?’ said Marie.  ‘Who cares for the neighbours?  If you and I understand each other, is not that enough?’

‘I care for the neighbours,’ said Michel Voss with energy.

‘And must I marry a man I don’t care a bit for, because of the neighbours, Uncle Michel?’ asked Marie, with something approaching to indignation in her voice.

Michel Voss perceived that it was of no use for him to carry on the argument.  He entertained a half-formed idea that he did not quite understand the objections so strongly urged by his niece; that there was something on her mind that she would not tell him, and that there might be cruelty in urging the matter upon her; but, in opposition to this, there was his assured conviction that it was his duty to provide well and comfortably for his niece, and that it was her duty to obey him in acceding to such provision as he might make.  And then this marriage was undoubtedly a good marriage—a match that would make all the world declare how well Michel Voss had done for the girl whom he had taken under his protection.  It was a marriage that he could not bear to see go out of the family.  It was not probable that the young linen-merchant, who was so well to do in the world, and who, no doubt, might have his choice in larger places than Granpere—it was not probable, Michel thought, that he would put up with many refusals.  The girl would lose her chance, unless he, by his firmness, could drive this folly out of her.  And yet how could he be firm, when he was tempted to throw his great arms about her, and swear that she should eat of his bread and drink of his cup, and be unto h