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"I swear to you, my dear child, that I only consider your happiness, and Mme. de Lorcy herself Since M. Langis no longer thinks of you, what reason could she have " "I do not know," interrupted Antoinette; "but her prejudice would take the place of reason." "So you will not believe that Count Larinski is married?" "I believe it, without being certain, and I wish to be assured of it.
"And who has decided from time immemorial, that I can only be happy on condition that I marry her nephew, M. Camille Langis." "Well, I admit that she is partial. That is no reason why we should not send her our Pole. She will inspect him, she will tell us her opinion; it will be a new element in the argument." "Ah! I know her opinion without asking it.
This sad world is full of accidents and Poles." M. Langis looked at him in amazement, as if to ask for an explanation. M. Moriaz continued: "Do yourself justice. You are the most honest fellow upon earth, I grant; you are a charming man, and an engineer of the highest merit.
She obstinately asserted to them that their seeming happiness was all a deceit; that they had fastened a stone about their necks; and that, without appearing to do so, at the bottom of their hearts they bitterly repented. She added, "It is not my fault; I told you, but you would not believe me." Mme. de Lorcy had an almost maternal affection for her nephew, M. Camille Langis.
Oh dear, what funny old women there are in the world!" As she was waiting for her lover to appear, Camille Langis came to the house. Naturally, she was not desirous of talking with her rejected suitor at that moment, and she gave him a rather frigid welcome. "I see you don't want me," said Camille sadly, turning away. "Of course I want you," she said, touched by the feeling he showed.
And Camille Langis cried out, clinching his hands: "Ah! madame, I entreat you, do you know where I can procure a Polish head, a Polish mustache, a Polish smile? Pray, where are these articles to be had, and what is their market price? I will not haggle! O women! what a set you are plague on you!" "And are aunts the same?" gravely asked Mme. de Lorcy.
The dinner was only passably lively. Mlle. Moiseney owed M. Langis a grudge; she could not forgive him for having made fun of her more than once in her eyes an unpardonable sin. M. Moriaz was enchanted to find himself once more in company with his dear Camille; but he kept asking himself, mournfully, "Why is not he to be my son-in-law?"
You resemble a sphinx of the desert engaged in meditating upon a serpent, and who mistakes an innocent adder for a viper." M. Langis understood what she wished to say to him, but he did not throw off his sinister air. After praising Vienna and its environs, Samuel Brohl eulogized the easy, careless character of the Viennese. He told, in a sprightly way, several anecdotes.
Grand Dieu! what would become of us, if the only way to get rid of people was by killing them?" As she pronounced these words a servant entered, bearing a card on a silver salver. She took the card and exclaimed: "When you speak of the wolf Here is our man!" She begged M. Langis to retire; he implored permission to remain, promising to be a model of discretion.
M. Moriaz ordered the coachman to stop, sprang out of the carriage, went up to the traveller whom he seized by both shoulders, exclaiming: "What, you! you again! I can go nowhere in Grisons without meeting you. I ask as I did at Chur, 'Where do you come from?" "Did you think I would stay there forever?" rejoined M. Camille Langis, reproachfully.
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