At last the time for supper came. Throughout the day Marie had said
very little to any one after leaving her uncle. Ideas flitted
across her mind of various modes of escape. What if she were to run
away--to her cousin's house at Epinal; and write from thence to say
that this proposed marriage was impossible? But her cousin at
Epinal was a stranger to her, and her uncle had always been to her
the same as a father. Then she thought of going to Colmar, of
telling the whole truth to George, and of dying when he refused her-
-as refuse her he would. But this was a dream rather than a plan.
Or how would it be if she went to her uncle now at once, while the
young man was away at the ravine, and swore to him that nothing on
earth should induce her to marry Adrian Urmand? But brave as Marie
was, she was afraid to do this. He had told her how he suffered
when they two did not stand well together, and she feared to be
accused by him of unkindness and ingratitude. And how would it be
with her if she did accept the man? She was sufficiently alive to
the necessities of the world to know that it would be well to have a
home of her own, and a husband, and children if God would send them.
She understood quite as well as Michel Voss did that to be head-
waiter at the Lion d'Or was not a career in life of which she could
have reason to be proud. As the afternoon went on she was in great
doubt. She spread the cloth, and prepared the room for supper,
somewhat earlier than usual, knowing that she should require some
minutes for her toilet. It was necessary that she should explain to
Peter that he must take upon himself some self-action upon this
occasion, and it may be doubted whether she did this with perfect
good humour. She was angry when she had to look for him before she
commenced her operations, and scolded him because he could not
understand without being told why she went away and left him twenty
minutes before the bell was rung.