He had unwillingly consented, and thus, during the last month, the matter had been dragging on indefinitely: With Julien de Buxieres, this interminable delay, these incessant comings and goings from the chateau to the farm, as well as the mysterious conduct of the bridegroom-elect, became a subject of serious irritation, amounting almost to obsession.

He would have wished the affair hurried up, and the sacrifice consummated without hindrance.
He believed that when once the newly-married pair had taken up their quarters at La Thuiliere, the very certainty that Reine belonged in future to another would suffice to effect a radical cure in him, and chase away the deceptive phantoms by which he was pursued.
One evening, as Claudet was returning home, more out of humor and silent than usual, Julien asked him, abruptly: "Well! how are you getting along?
When is the wedding ?" "Nothing is decided yet," replied Claudet, "we have time enough!" "You think so ?" exclaimed de Buxieres, sarcastically; "you have considerable patience for a lover!" The remark and the tone provoked Claudet.
"The delay is not of my making," returned he.
"Ah!" replied the other, quickly, "then it comes from Mademoiselle Vincart ?" And a sudden gleam came into his eyes, as if Claudet's assertion had kindled a spark of hope in his breast.

The latter noticed the momentary brightness in his cousin's usually stormy countenance, and hastened to reply: "Nay, nay; we both think it better to postpone the wedding until the harvest is in." "You are wrong.

A wedding should not be postponed.

Besides, this prolonged love-making, these daily visits to the farm--all that is not very proper.