_negligée_. I had been looking at all the pretty presents I have
shown you, and my trousseau, and my furniture,--it is not bad, as
you see,--my dress, my veil, my ring, and--I do not know--I do not
know--but, all of a sudden, from everywhere came the thought of my
_brun_, my handsome _brun_ with the mustache, and the _bonne aventure,
ricke, avenant_, the Jules, Raoul, Guy, and the flower leaves, and
'_il m'aime, un pen, beaucoup, pas du tout,' passionnément_, and the
way I expected to meet him walking to and from school, walking as if
I were dancing the steps, and oh, my plans, my plans, my plans,--silk
dresses, theater, voyages to Europe,--and poor papa, so fine, so tall,
so aristocratic. I cannot tell you how it all came; it seized my
heart, and, _mon Dieu!_ I cried out, and I wept, I wept, I wept. How
I wept! It pains me here now to remember it. Hours, hours it lasted,
until I had no tears in my body, and I had to weep without them, with
sobs and moans. But this, I have always observed, is the time for
reflection--after the tears are all out. And I am sure God himself
gave me my thoughts. 'Poor little Mimi!' I thought, '_fi done_! You
are going to make a fool of yourself now when it is all over, because
why? It is God who manages the world, and not you. You pray to God to
help you in your despair, and he has helped you. He has sent you a
good, kind husband who adores you; who asks only to be a brother to
your sisters and brothers, and son to Clementine; who has given you
more than you ever possessed in your life--but because he did not come
out of the _bonne aventure_--and who gets a husband out of the
_bonne aventure?_--and would your _brun_ have come to you in your
misfortune?' I am sure God inspired those thoughts in me.

[Illustration: "I wept, I wept, I wept."]

"I tell you, I rose from that bed--naturally I had thrown myself upon