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Updated: May 22, 2025
As he walked from the door to the bed he kept his eye on the patient, and the moment he reached her he said in Polish: "You are a Pole?" "No, I am not; my mother was." "Whom did your grandfather, Colonel Tarlowski, marry?" "A Pole." "From what province?" "A Soboleska, of Pinsk." "Very good; monsieur is your father?" "Yes." "Monsieur," he said, turning to the old man; "your wife "
She is the granddaughter of Colonel Tarlowski, the friend of Poniatowski." "Monsieur, you came here to ask me to cure that lady, and not to give me advice. In Poland I am a Pole; in Paris I am Parisian. Every man does good in his own way; the greed with which I am credited is not without its motive. The wealth I am amassing has its destination; it is a sacred one.
"No, I only know that he made a love-match with the daughter of General Tarlowski; that the daughter is named after the mother, Vanda; the grandson is called Auguste; and I have seen a portrait of Monsieur Bernard in the red robes of a president of the Royal Courts." "Here, read that," said Monsieur Joseph, pointing to the titlepage of the manuscript, written probably in Auguste's handwriting:
I married the daughter of one of the bravest colonels of the Imperial guard, Tarlowski, a Pole, formerly on the staff of the Emperor. The functions that I exercised in my high position demanded the utmost purity of life and morals; but I have never had room in my heart for many feelings, and I faithfully loved my wife, who deserved such love.
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