And then, deeply meditating, La Mere Bauche hit upon a plan, and
herself communicated it to the capitaine over a second cup of coffee
into which she poured a full teaspoonful more than the usual
allowance of cognac. Why should not he, the capitaine himself, be
the man to marry Marie Clavert?

It was a very startling proposal, the idea of matrimony for himself
never having as yet entered into the capitaine's head at any period
of his life; but La Mere Bauche did contrive to make it not
altogether unacceptable. As to that matter of dowry she was prepared
to be more than generous. She did love Marie well, and could find it
in her heart to give her anything--any thing except her son, her own
Adolphe. What she proposed was this. Adolphe, himself, would never
keep the baths. If the capitaine would take Marie for his wife,
Marie, Madame Bauche declared, should be the mistress after her
death; subject of course to certain settlements as to Adolphe's
pecuniary interests.

The plan was discussed a thousand times, and at last so far brought
to bear that Marie was made acquainted with it--having been called in
to sit in presence with La Mere Bauche and her future proposed
husband. The poor girl manifested no disgust to the stiff ungainly
lover whom they assigned to her,--who through his whole frame was in
appearance almost as wooden as his own leg. On the whole, indeed,
Marie liked the capitaine, and felt that he was her friend; and in
her country such marriages were not uncommon. The capitaine was
perhaps a little beyond the age at which a man might usually be
thought justified in demanding the services of a young girl as his
nurse and wife, but then Marie of herself had so little to give--