which, to be sure, was not very considerable.

Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz had a more fortunate destiny than Count
Larinski. She did not plume herself on having invented a new gun, nor
did she depend upon her ingenuity for a livelihood; she had inherited
from her mother a yearly income of about a hundred thousand livres,
which enabled her to enjoy life and make others happy, for she was very
charitable. She loved the world without loving it too much; she knew how
to do without it, having abundant resources within herself, and being of
a very independent disposition. During the winter she went out a great
deal into society, and received freely at home. Her father, member of
the Institute and Professor of Chemistry at the College of France, was
one of those _savants_ who enjoy dining out; he had a taste also for
music and for the theatre. Antoinette accompanied him everywhere; they
scarcely ever remained at home except upon their reception evenings; but
with the return of the swallows it was a pleasure to Mlle. Moriaz to
fly to Cormeilles and there pass seven months, reduced to the society of
Mlle. Moiseney, who, after having been her instructress, had become
her _demoiselle de compagnie_. She lived pretty much in the open air,
walking about in the woods, reading, or painting; and the woods, her
books, and her paint-brushes, to say nothing of her poor people, so
agreeably occupied her time that she never experienced a quarter of an
hour's _ennui_. She was too content with her lot to have the slightest
inclination to change it; therefore she was in no hurry to marry. She
had completed twenty-four years of her existence, had refused several
desirable offers, and wished nothing better than to retain her
maidenhood. It was the sole article concerning which this heiress had
discussions with those around her. When her father took it into his
head to grow angry and cry, "You must!" she would burst out laughing;
whereupon he would laugh also, and say: "I'm not the master here; in
fact, I am placed in the position of a ploughman arguing with a priest."

It is very dangerous to tax one's brains too much when one dines out
frequently. During the winter of 1875, M. Moriaz had undertaken an
excess of work; he was overdriven, and his health suffered. He was
attacked by one of those anemic disorders of which we hear so much
nowadays, and which may be called _la maladie a la mode_. He was obliged
to break in upon his daily routine, employ an