'Not a word; uncle. I am not offended. Of course I am much obliged
to him. Only I don't love him.'

'By my faith I don't understand it. I don't indeed. It is sheer
nonsense, and you must get over it. I shouldn't be doing my duty if
I didn't tell you that you must get over it. He will be here again
in another ten days, and you must have thought better of it by that
time. You must indeed, Marie.'

Then they walked down the hill in silence together, each thinking
intently on the purpose of the other, but each altogether
misunderstanding the other. Michel Voss was assured--as she had
twice implied as much--that she was altogether indifferent to his
son George. What he might have said or done had she declared her
affection for her absent lover, he did not himself know. He had not
questioned himself on that point. Though his wife had told him that
Marie was ever thinking of George, he had not believed that it was
so. He had no reason for disliking a marriage between his son and
his wife's niece. When he had first thought that they were going to
be lovers, under his nose, without his permission,--going to
commence a new kind of life between themselves without so much as a
word spoken to him or by him,--he had found himself compelled to
interfere, compelled as a father and an uncle. That kind of thing
could never be allowed to take place in a well-ordered house without
the expressed sanction of the head of the household. He had
interfered,--rather roughly; and his son had taken him at his word.
He was sore now at his son's coldness to him, and was disposed to
believe that his son cared not at all for any one at Granpere. His
niece was almost as dear to him as his son, and much more dutiful.
Therefore he would do the best he could for his niece. Marie's