style="font-size:15px;"> “An offer of marriage, uncle?” cried Paul, brightening up.
“Why, ye—yes! an offer. Pachomief, are you going? All right! Away with you! Ye—yes, c'est une charmante personne. But I confess, I took the step rather rash—ly. I only begin to see that now. Dear me! dear, dear me!”
“Excuse me, uncle; but when did you make this offer?”
“Well, I admit I don't know exactly when I made it! Perhaps I dre—dreamed it; I don't know. Dear me, how very strange it all seems!”
Mosgliakoff trembled with joy: his new idea blazed forth in full developed glory.
“And whom did you propose to?” he asked impatiently.
“The daughter of the house, my boy; that beau—tiful girl. I—I forget what they call her. Bu—but, my dear boy, you see I—I can't possibly marry. What am I to do?”
“Oh! of course, you are done for if you marry, that's clear. But let me ask you one more question, uncle. Are you perfectly certain that you actually made her an offer of marriage?”
“Ye—yes, I'm sure of it; I—I——.”
“And what if you dreamed the whole thing, just as you did that you were upset out of the carriage a second time?”
“Dear me! dear me! I—I really think I may have dreamed it; it's very awkward. I don't know how to show myself there, now. H—how could I find out, dear boy, for certain? Couldn't I get to know by some outside way whether I really did make her an offer of ma—arriage or not? Why, just you think of my dreadful po—sition!”
“Do you know, uncle, I don't think we need trouble ourselves to find out at all.”
“Why, wh—what then?”
“I am convinced that you were dreaming.”
“I—I think so myself, too, my dear fellow; es—pecially as I often have that sort of dream.”
“You see, uncle, you had a drop of wine for lunch, and then another drop or two for dinner, don't you know; and so you may easily have——”
“Ye—yes, quite so, quite so; it may easily have been that.”
“Besides, my dear uncle, however excited you may have been, you would never have taken such a senseless step in your waking moments. So far as I know you, uncle, you are a man of the highest and most deliberate judgment, and I am positive that——”
“Ye—yes, ye—yes.”
“Why, only imagine—if your relations were to get to hear of such a thing. My goodness, uncle! they were cruel enough to you before. What do you suppose they would do now, eh?”
“Goodness gracious!” cried the frightened old prince. “Good—ness gracious! Wh—why, what would they do, do you think?”
“Do? Why, of course, they would all screech out that you had acted under the influence of insanity: in fact, that you were mad; that you had been swindled, and that you must be put under proper restraint. In fact, they'd pop you into some lunatic asylum.”
Mosgliakoff was well aware of the best method of frightening the poor old man out of his wits.
“Gracious heavens!” cried the latter, trembling like a leaflet with horror. “Gra—cious heavens! would they really do that?”
“Undoubtedly; and, knowing this, uncle, think for yourself. Could you possibly have done such a thing with your eyes open? As if you don't understand what's good for you just as well as your neighbours. I solemnly affirm that you saw all this in a dream!”
“Of course, of course; un—doubtedly in a dream, un—doubtedly so! What a clever fellow you are, my dear boy; you saw it at once. I am deeply grate—ful to you for putting me right. I was really quite under the im—pression I had actually done it.”
“And how glad I am that I met you, uncle, before you went in there! Just fancy, what a mess you might have made of it! You might have gone in thinking you were engaged to the girl, and behaved in the capacity of accepted lover. Think how fearfully dangerous——.”
“Ye—yes, of course; most dangerous!”
“Why, remember, this girl is twenty-three years old. Nobody will marry her, and suddenly you, a rich and eminent man of rank and title, appear on the scene as her accepted swain. They would lay hold of the idea at once, and act up to it, and swear that you really were her future husband, and would marry you off, too. I daresay they would even count upon your speedy death, and make their calculations accordingly.”
“No!”
“Then again, uncle; a man of your dignity——”
“Ye—yes, quite so, dig—nity!”
“And wisdom,—and amiability——”
“Quite so; wis—dom—wisdom!”
“And then—a prince into the bargain! Good gracious, uncle, as if a man like yourself would make such a match as that, if you really did mean marrying! What would your relations say?”
“Why, my dear boy, they'd simply ea—eat me up,—I—I know their cunning and malice of old! My dear fellow—you won't believe it—but I assure you I was afraid they were going to put me into a lun—atic asylum! a common ma—ad-house! Goodness me, think of that! Whatever should I have done with myself all day in a ma—ad-house?”
“Of course, of course! Well, I won't leave your side, then, uncle, when you go downstairs. There are guests there too!”
“Guests? dear me! I—I——”
“Don't be afraid, uncle; I shall be by you!”
“I—I'm so much obliged to you, my dear boy; you have simply sa—ved me, you have indeed! But, do you know what,—I think I'd better go away altogether!”
“Tomorrow, uncle! tomorrow morning at seven! and this evening you must be sure to say, in the presence of everybody, that you are starting away at seven next morning: you must say good-bye to-night!”
“Un—doubtedly, undoubtedly—I shall go;—but what if they talk to me as though I were engaged to the young wo—oman?”
“Don't you fear, uncle! I shall be there! And mind, whatever they say or hint to you, you must declare that you dreamed the whole thing—as indeed you did, of course?”
“Ye—yes, quite so, un—doubtedly so! But, do you know my dear boy, it was a most be—witching dream, for all that! She is a wond—erfully lovely girl, my boy,—such a figure—bewitching—be—witching!”
“Well, au revoir, uncle! I'm going down, now, and you——”
“How! How! you are not going to leave me alone?” cried the old man, greatly alarmed.
“No, no—oh no, uncle; but we
