“‘She is foolish,’ I said.  ’Fortunately, she changes her folly with every new moon!’

“‘What would you have?’ he replied; ’in order not to be insipid, it is well to be a little foolish.  My poor mother used often to say:  “My son, youth should be employed in laying by a great store of extravagant enthusiasm; otherwise, at the end of life’s journey the heart will be void, for much is left on the road."’

“Calm, seigneur, your excited fears, no one has designs on your daughter; we evidently find her charming, but are by no means in love with her.  With much precaution and circumlocution I gently proceeded to question Count Larinski on the state of his affairs, about which he never has opened his mouth.  He frowned.  I did not lose courage.  I offered him this place of professor of the Slavonian languages of which the abbe had again spoken.  I saw in an instant that his sensitive pride had taken alarm.  However, upon reflection, he softened, thanked me, declined my kind offer, and announced—­guess what!  How much is my news worth? what will you give for it?  He announced, I tell you, that in two weeks—­you understand me—­he will return to Vienna, where he has been promised a post in the archives of the Minister of War.  I did not dare to ask what was the salary; after all, if he is satisfied, it is not for us to be harder to please than he.  When I affirm that Count Larinski is a good, worthy man!—­In two weeks! you understand me perfectly.

“My dear friend, I am enchanted to know that the water of Saint Moritz and the air of the Engadine have entirely re-established your health; but do not be imprudent.  Half-cures are fatal.  Be careful not to leave Churwalden too soon, for the descent into the heavy atmosphere of the plains.  Your physician, whom I have just seen, declares that, if you hasten your return he will not answer for the consequences.  Antoinette, I am sure, will join her entreaties to ours.  Do not let us see you before the end of three weeks!  Follow my orders, my dear professor, and all will go well.  Camille is about to leave; he has become insupportable.  He had the audacity to assert to me that I was a good woman, but very credulous, which in my estimation is not very polite.  He no longer acts as a nephew, and respect is dead.”

Ten days later M. Moriaz received at Churwalden a fourth and last letter: 

“September 6th.

“Decidedly my dear friend, Count Larinski is a delightful man, and I never will pardon myself for having judged ill of him.  The day before yesterday I did not know the extent of his merit and of his virtues.  His beautiful soul is like a country where one passes from one pleasing discovery to another, and at each step a new scene is revealed.  Between ourselves, Antoinette is a dreamer:  where has she got the idea that this man is in love with her?  These Counts Larinski have artists’ enthusiasm, tender and sensitive hearts, and poetic imaginations; they