was
about what Count Abel said to himself; in fact, he could hardly refrain
from exclaiming, "Dieu! how happy I shall be here!" The situation, the
terrace, the garden, everything pleased him infinitely. It seemed to him
that the air here was fresher, more delightful than elsewhere, that it
was exhilarating in the extreme; it seemed to him that the grass on
the lawn was greener than any grass he ever had seen before, that the
flowers in the carefully tended borders exhaled an unusually delicious
perfume. He espied an open window on the ground-floor. He drew near it;
the room into which he gazed, full of _bric-a-brac_ of exquisite choice,
was Mlle. Moriaz's study. There was in the appearance of this little
sanctuary, hung with white silken drapery, and as elegant as the
divinity whose favourite tarrying-place it was, something of purity,
chastity, and maidenliness. It opened its windows to the fresh breezes
and to the perfume of the flowers; but it seemed as if nothing could
penetrate there that was coarse or suspicious; that the entrance was
forbidden to all doubtful or malignant beings who might have a secret
crime to hide, to all pilgrims through life who had travelled its
highways and had brought hence dust and mud on the soles of their
shoes. Strange to say, Count Abel experienced an attack of timidity and
embarrassment. He felt that he was indiscreet; he averted his eyes and
went away.

This impression was soon dispelled. He regained his assurance, and
walked around the terrace twice, treading the gravel with the step of a
conqueror, making it feel the full weight of his foot. He finally seated
himself on a bench; he had the nonchalant attitude of a man who is at
home. Five or six doves were billing and cooing on the ledge of the
roof; he could readily understand that they were talking of him, and
that they were saying, "Here he is--we have been waiting for him." A
beautiful Angora cat, white as snow, with delicate nose and silky hair,
came, arching her back and waving her bushy tail, from out a grove,
and advanced towards him. She examined him curiously an instant, rubbed
herself against the bench, and then sat coquettishly at the feet of the
intruder. He caressed her, saying: "You are as white and graceful as
your mistress; you are an intelligent animal; you understand, my dear,
that I come from her. Shall I tell you a secret? She loves Count Abel
Larinski."

With these words he rose and left, after thanking the