But nevertheless there was but one thing in the world which in
Marie's eyes was of any value; and that one thing was the heart of
Adolphe Bauche. Without that she would be nothing; with that,--with
that assured, she could wait patiently till doomsday.

Letters were written to Adolphe during all these eventful doings; and
a letter came from him saying that he greatly valued Marie's love,
but that as it had been clearly proved to him that their marriage
would be neither for her advantage, nor for his, he was willing to
give it up. He consented to her marriage with the capitaine, and
expressed his gratitude to his mother for the pecuniary advantages
which she had held out to him. Oh, Adolphe, Adolphe! But, alas,
alas! is not such the way of most men's hearts--and of the hearts of
some women?

This letter was read to Marie, but it had no more effect upon her
than would have had some dry legal document. In those days and in
those places men and women did not depend much upon letters; nor when
they were written, was there expressed in them much of heart or of
feeling. Marie would understand, as she was well aware, the glance
of Adolphe's eye and the tone of Adolphe's voice; she would perceive
at once from them what her lover really meant, what he wished, what
in the innermost corner of his heart he really desired that she
should do. But from that stiff constrained written document she
could understand nothing.

It was agreed therefore that Adolphe should return, and that she
would accept her fate from his mouth. The capitaine, who knew more
of human nature than poor Marie, felt tolerably sure of his bride.
Adolphe, who had seen something of the world, would not care very