The baron adored Count Andrea Cavalcanti: not so Mademoiselle Eugenie Danglars.
"Name it, my beloved, my Eugenie, my own!--name it!--but, alas! it is already yielded ere named."
Yes; full easily do I call to mind the precise words of the dear promise you made to Eugenie last night.
Madame Eugenie Lalande, quasi Simpson--formerly Moissart--was, in sober fact, my great, great, grandmother.
Now she was aware that my own age did not exceed two and twenty; and I, on the contrary, perhaps, was not aware that the years of my Eugenie extended very considerably beyond that sum.
In the present instance, Eugenie, who for a few moments past had seemed to be searching for something in her bosom, at length let fall upon the grass a miniature, which I immediately picked up and presented to her.