"You are a child: be guided. The moment is come for you to propose. In
a few days you will start for Churwalden, and you will say to this angry
woman, 'I have lied--I love you.' In short, you will talk to her of your
amorous flame; and you may, freely, under these circumstances, exhaust
all your treasure-store of hyperbole. She will listen to you, I can
promise you, and she will say to herself, 'I seek vengeance--here it
is.'"

"I would like to believe you, madame," he replied, "but are you very
certain that Mlle. Moriaz is still at Churwalden?"

And, pointing with his finger, he showed her at the end of the avenue a
figure coming towards them clad in a pretty nut-brown dress with a long
train sweeping the gravel.

"Truly, I believe that it is she," cried Mme. de Lorcy. "M. Moriaz is
the most unskilful person; but, after all, not much harm is done."

Mlle. Moriaz had arrived the evening previous at Cormeilles. After
resting somewhat from the fatigues of the journey, she had nothing more
urgent to do than to order the horses put to her coupe and to come and
pay her respects to her godmother, who could not fail to be touched by
this attention.

Mme. de Lorcy ran to Antoinette and embraced her several times, saying:
"You are here at last! How charmed I am to see you again! You made
us wait long enough; I began to fear that you had taken root in the
Grisons. Is it indeed an enchanted land? I rather believe that your
father is a cruel egotist, that he shamefully sacrificed you to his own
convenience in prolonging his cure; but here you are--I will pardon
him. Your poor, your _proteges_, are clamorous for you. Who do you think
asked after you, the other day? Mlle. Galet, whom, according to your
orders, I supplied with her quarter's allowance. How you spoil her! I
found on her table a bouquet fit for a duchess; she insisted that you
had sent it to her from where you were, and I had all the trouble in
the world to make her understand that double camellias are not gathered
among the glaciers of Roseg. Strew with flowers, if you will, Mlle.
Galet's existence and garret; but do not fling at her head a bushel
of double camellias, streaked with white; it is madness. I seriously
propose to have you put under restraint. Never mind, I am very happy
to see you again. You are looking very well.--Don't you think, Camille,
that she appears extremely well?"

Mlle. Moriaz coldly received Mme. de Lorcy's embraces; but she smiled
gr