"And yet that sister is a perfect treasure, in spite of her lack of
beauty. There isn't a sweeter soul on earth; she has entreated her
father to change his decision; she assures him that she has no wish to
marry, and that her only desire is to remain with him to care for his
old age, and to help rear her sister's children. But the old man is
inflexible; when once he takes a stand, that's the end of it!"

The judge's tongue was untied, and he was as eloquent in praise of the
elder sister as he had been reserved in telling of his love. Perhaps
this eased his mind, for to speak of her seemed almost like speaking of
his sweetheart; to commend the one was to exalt the other.

"She is an angel of goodness," he continued, "and loves her sister with
all a mother's tenderness; indeed, she has filled a mother's place ever
since the two girls were left orphans. She has the whole care of the
house, and manages it admirably; my cousin never tires of telling me
that she has nowhere seen such good order, or a house so well kept. But
you must not imagine that she neglects other things for the sake of her
housekeeping. Few of our women are so well read or so widely informed.
In that respect, at least, Mr. Mitrophanis is worthy of all praise; his
daughters have been carefully educated. It is hardly his fault if the
two are not equally fair to look upon; in beauty of character they are
equal. The elder also is a treasure, and happy the man that wins her."

At first the professor listened in some astonishment to his friend's
sudden enthusiasm; then, little by little, his surprise changed to
uneasiness. He began to suspect that--But he was not the man to conceal
anything that came into his mind, and stopping abruptly in the middle of
the road, he interrupted the judge's eulogy.