True to her appointment, Princess Gulof entered Mme. de Lorcy’s salon the following day.  The ladies occupied themselves first of all with the lapdog, which was found charming and quite worthy to succeed to Moufflard I. Mme. de Lorcy watched all the time for a suitable opportunity of introducing the subject nearest to her heart; when she thought it had come, she observed: 

“Apropos, princess, you who know everything, you who are a true cosmopolitan, have you ever heard of a mysterious personage who calls himself Count Abel Larinski?”

“Not that I am aware of, my dear, although his name may not be absolutely unknown to me.”

“Search among your reminiscences; you must have encountered him somewhere; you have visited all the countries of the world—­”

“Of the habitable world,” she interposed; “but according to my especial point of view Siberia scarcely can be called so, and it is there, if I mistake not, that your Count Larinski must have been sent.”

“Would to heaven!—­Perhaps there was question of procuring this little pleasure for his father; but, unfortunately, he took the precaution to emigrate to America.  The inconvenience of America is, that people can return from there, for my Larinski has returned, and it is that that grieves me.”

“What has he done to you?” inquired the princess pinching the ears of the dog who was slumbering in her lap.

“I spoke to you at Ostend about my goddaughter Mlle. Moriaz, who is an adorable creature.  I proposed to marry her to my nephew, M. Langis, a most highly accomplished young man.  This Larinski came suddenly on the scene, he cast a charm over the child, and he will marry her.”

“What a pity!  Is he handsome?”

“Yes; that, to tell the truth, is his sole merit.”

“It is merit sufficient,” replied the princess, whose gray eyes twinkled as she spoke.  “There is nothing certain but a man’s beauty; all else is open to discussion.”

“Pray, allow me to consider matters from a more matter-of-fact point of view,” said Mme. de Lorcy.  “Also I may as well confide to you my whole perplexity:  I suspect Count Larinski of being neither a true Larinski nor a true count; I would stake my life that the Larinskis are all dead, and that this man is some adventurer.”

“You will end by interesting me,” rejoined the princess.  “Do not speak too severely of adventurers, however; they are one of the most curious varieties of the human family.  Let your goddaughter marry hers; it will bring a piquant element into her life; the poor world is so generally a prey to ennui.”

“Thank you! my goddaughter was not born to marry an adventurer.  I detest this Larinski, and I have vowed that I will play him some abominable trick!”

“Do not become excited, my dear.  What colour are his eyes?”

“Green as those of the cats or of the owls.”