not say that she would not learn to love him some day, but there
seemed no likelihood of it at present. Then he would shoot himself!
He would certainly shoot himself unless she learnt to love him! And
she asked "When?" and they both laughed. They changed the subject,
but after a time they came back to it; which is the worst of love--
one always comes back to it.

Then suddenly he began to assume an air of proprietorship, and burst
into a hundred explanations of what fears he felt for her; for her
happiness and welfare. Her father was absent-minded and heedless.
He was not a fit guardian for her. Was she not the prettiest girl
in all Dantzig--in all the world? Her sister was not fond enough of
her to care for her properly. He announced his intention of seeing
her father the next day. Everything should be done in order. Not a
word must be hinted by the most watchful neighbour against the
perfect propriety of their betrothal.

Desiree laughed and said that he was progressing rather rapidly.
She had only her instinct to guide her through these troubled
waters; which was much better than experience. Experience in a
woman is tantamount to a previous conviction against a prisoner.

Charles was grave, however; a rare tribute. He was in love for the
first time, which often makes men quite honest for a brief period--
even unselfish. Of course, some men are honest and unselfish all
their lives; which perhaps means that they remain in love--for the
first time--all their lives. They are rare, of course. But the
sort of woman with whom it is possible to remain in love all through
a lifetime is rarer.