Moreover, a certain primitive instinct of prudence made him circumspect.

In his innermost soul, he still entertained doubts of Julien's sincerity.

Sometimes he doubted whether his cousin's conduct had not been dictated by the bitterness of rejected love, rather than a generous impulse of affection, and he did not care to reveal Reine's repulse to one whom he vaguely suspected of being a former lover.

His simple, ardent nature could not put up with opposition, and he thought only of hastening the day when Reine would belong to him altogether.

But, when he broached this subject, he had the mortification to find that she was less impatient than himself.
"There is no hurry," she replied, "our affairs are not in order, our harvests are not housed, and it would be better to wait till the dull season." In his first moments of joy and effervescence, Claudet had evinced the desire to announce immediately the betrothal throughout the village.
This Reine had opposed; she thought they should avoid awakening public curiosity so long beforehand, and she extracted from Claudet a promise to say nothing until the date of the marriage should be settled.