Mauprat
"Look at that; look how beautiful it is!"
He is the only peasant I have ever known to admire the sky; or, at least, he is the only one I have ever seen who was conscious of his admiration.
"Why, Master Patience," I said to him, "do you think I might be an honest man if I chose? Do you think then that I am not one already?"
"Oh, do not be angry," he answered. "Patience is privileged to say anything. Is he not the fool of the château?"
"On the contrary, Edmée maintains that you are its sage."
"Does the holy child of God say that? Well, if she believes so, I will try to act as a wise man, and give you some good advice, Master Bernard Mauprat. Will you accept it?"
"It seems to me that in this place every one takes upon himself to give advice. Never mind, I am listening."
"You are in love with your cousin, are you not?"
"You are very bold to ask such a question."
"It is not a question; it is a fact. Well, my advice is this: make your cousin love you, and become her husband."
"And why do you take this interest in me, Master Patience?"
"Because I know you deserve it."
"Who told you so? The abbé?"
"No."
"Edmée?"
"Partly. And yet she is certainly not very much in love with you. But it is your own fault."
"How so, Patience?"
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