Delighted at the praise bestowed upon her writing by Charles, when he
heard that she had learned only one month, she invited us to follow her.
Charles asked her why she had waited until the age of nineteen to study
writing.

"Well, sir, what does it matter to you? Besides, I must tell you that I
am seventeen, and not nineteen years of age."

Charles entreated her to excuse him, smiling at the quickness of her
answer.

She was dressed like a simple country girl, yet very neatly, and she wore
her handsome gold chains round her neck and on her arms. I told her to
take my arm and that of Charles, which she did, casting towards me a look
of loving obedience. We went to her mother's house; the good woman was
compelled to keep her bed owing to sciatica. As we entered the room, a
respectable-looking man, who was seated near the patient, rose at the
sight of Charles, and embraced him affectionately. I heard that he was
the family physician, and the circumstance pleased me much.

After we had paid our compliments to the good woman, the doctor enquired
after Charles's aunt and sister; and alluding to the sister who was
suffering from a secret disease, Charles desired to say a few words to
him in private; they left the room together. Being alone with the mother
and Christine, I praised Charles, his excellent conduct, his high
character, his business abilities, and extolled the happiness of the
woman who would be his wife. They both confirmed my praises by saying
that everything I said of him could be read on his features. I had no
time to lose, so I told Christine to be on her guard during dinner, as