Twenty years of age, a charming blonde, with blue eyes, milk-white
complexion, and radiant with divine health, Mathilde Stangerson was
one of the most beautiful marriageable girls in either the old or
the new world. It was her father's duty, in spite of the inevitable
pain which a separation from her would cause him, to think of her
marriage; and he was fully prepared for it. Nevertheless, he
buried himself and his child at the Glandier at the moment when his
friends were expecting him to bring her out into society. Some of
them expressed their astonishment, and to their questions he
answered: "It is my daughter's wish. I can refuse her nothing.
She has chosen the Glandier."

Interrogated in her turn, the young girl replied calmly: "Where
could we work better than in this solitude?" For Mademoiselle
Stangerson had already begun to collaborate with her father in his
work. It could not at the time be imagined that her passion for
science would lead her so far as to refuse all the suitors who
presented themselves to her for over fifteen years. So secluded was
the life led by the two, father and daughter, that they showed
themselves only at a few official receptions and, at certain times
in the year, in two or three friendly drawing-rooms, where the fame
of the professor and the beauty of Mathilde made a sensation. The
young girl's extreme reserve did not at first discourage suitors;
but at the end of a few years, they tired of their quest.

One alone persisted with tender tenacity and deserved the name of
"eternal fiance," a name he accepted with melancholy resignation;
that was Monsieur Robert Darzac. Mademoiselle Stangerson was now
no longer young, and it seemed that, having found no reason for
marrying at five-and-thirty, she would never find one. But such an