She received her cousin with an icy reserve; and he lost his time whenever he attempted to touch the chord of her recollections--recollections of the time when they had sketched out that flirtation in the Paul-and-Virginia style which is traditional between cousins of different sexes.

Still Rodolphe was very much in love with his cousin Angela, who couldn't bear him; and learning one day that the young lady was going shortly to the wedding ball of one of her friends, he made bold to promise Angela a bouquet of violets for the ball.

And after asking permission of her father, Angela accepted her cousin's gallant offer--always on condition that the violets should be white.
Overjoyed at his cousin's amiability, Rodolphe danced and sang his way back to Mount St.Bernard, as he called his lodging--why will be seen presently.

As he passed by a florist's in crossing the Palais Royal, he saw some white violets in the showcase, and was curious enough to ask their price.

A presentable bouquet could not be had for less than ten francs; there were some that cost more.
"The deuce!" exclaimed Rodolphe, "ten francs! and only eight days to find this fortune! It will be a hard pull, but never mind, my cousin shall have her flowers." This happened in the time of Rodolphe's literary genesis, as the transcendentalists would say.