finished his letter, he heard the sound of harps and violins. Some
itinerant musicians were giving a concert in the hotel-garden, which
was lit up as bright as day. Abel opened his window, and leaned on his
elbows, looking out. The first object that presented itself to his eyes
was Mlle. Moriaz, promenading one of the long garden-walks, leaning on
her father's arm. Many eyes were fixed on her--we have already said it
was difficult not to gaze upon her--but no one contemplated her with
such close attention as Count Larinski. He never once lost sight of her.

"Is she beautiful? Is she even pretty?" he queried within himself. "I
cannot quite make up my mind, but I am very sure that she is charming.
Like my bracelet, this is a fancy article. She is a little thin, and her
shoulders are too vigorously fashioned for her waist, which is slender
and supple as a reed; but, such as she is, she has not her equal. Her
walk, her carriage, resemble nothing I ever have seen before. I can well
imagine that when she appears in the streets of Paris people turn to
look after her, but no one would have the audacity to follow her. How
old is she? Twenty-four or twenty-five years, I should say. Why is she
not married? Who is this withered, pinched-looking fright of a personage
who trots at her side like a poodle-dog? Probably some _demoiselle de
compagnie_. And there comes her _femme de chambre_, a very spruce little
lass, bringing her a shawl, which the _demoiselle de compagnie_ hastens
to put over her shoulders. She allows it to be done with the air of one
who is accustomed to being waited upon. Mlle. Moriaz is an heiress. Why,
then, is she not married?"

Count Larinski pursued his soliloquy as long as Mlle. Moriaz promenaded
in the garden. As soon as she re-entered the hotel, it appeared to him
that the garden had become empty, and that the musicians were playing
out of tune. He closed his window. He gave up his plan of starting
the next day for Saxon. He had decided that he would set out for Saint
Moritz, to pass there at least two or three days. He said to himself,
"It seems absurd; but who can tell?"

Thereupon he proceeded to investigate the state of his finances, and he
weighed and re-weighed his purse, which was very light. Formerly Count
Larinski had possessed a very pretty collection of jewellery. He had
looked upon this as a reserve fund, to which he would have recourse only
in cases of extreme distress. Alas! there remained to h