Foye without remembering my promise, not two hours old, to talk
with you to-day about the dear old mansion."
"That is to be the nest of as happy a pair of lovers as ever went to
housekeeping; and I promised to keep soberly by your side as I am
doing," said he, mischievously twitching a stray lock of her dark
hair, "and talk with you on the pretty banks of the Lairet about the
old mansion."
"Yes, Pierre, that was your promise, if I would walk this way with
you. Where shall we begin?"
"Here, Amelie," replied he, kissing her fondly; "now the congress is
opened! I am your slave of the wonderful lamp, ready to set up and
pull down the world at your bidding. The old mansion is your own.
It shall have no rest until it becomes, within and without, a mirror
of the perfect taste and fancy of its lawful mistress."
"Not yet, Pierre. I will not let you divert me from my purpose by
your flatteries. The dear old home is perfect, but I must have the
best suite of rooms in it for your noble father, and the next best
for good Dame Rochelle.
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