n widow; she would have draped herself in
black crape. And after that? Desperate case! These Artemisias are very
tiresome, I admit; but one can accustom one's self to anything. Should
philosophers, who plead such sublime indifference about the affairs of
this mundane sphere, be at the mercy of a fit of the sulks, or a dress
of black crape? Besides, black is all the fashion just now, even for
those who are not in mourning.

"You speak of contracts! You are surely jesting! What! distrustful of
a Pole? take precautions against an antique man?--I quote from Abbe
Miollens--against a soul as noble as great? Think what you are doing! At
the mere thought of his disinterestedness being called into question, M.
Larinski would swoon away as he did in my _salon_. It is a little way he
has, which is most excellent, since it proves successful. Do not think
of such trifles as contracts; marry them with equal rights, and leave
the consequences to Providence! Follies have neither beauty nor merit,
unless they are complete. Ah, my good friend, Poland has its charm, has
it? Admirable! But you must swallow the whole thing. I am your obedient
servant."

CHAPTER IX

The pitiless sentence pronounced by Mme. de Lorcy grieved M. Moriaz, but
did not discourage him. It was his opinion that, let her say what she
might, precautions were good; that, well though it might be to bear our
misfortunes patiently, there was no law forbidding us to assuage them;
that it was quite permissible to prefer to complete follies those of a
modified character, and that a bad cold or an influenza was decidedly
preferable to inflammation of the lungs, which is so apt to prove fatal.
"Time and myself will suffice for all things," proudly said Philip II.
M. Moriaz said, with perhaps less pride: "To postpone a thing so long as
possible, and to hold deliberate counsel with one's notary, are the
best correctives of a dangerous marriage that cannot be prevented." His
notary, M. Noirot, in whom he reposed entire confidence, was absent;
a case of importance had carried him to Italy. Nothing remained but to
await his return, until which everything stood in suspense.

In the first conversation he had with his daughter on the subject, M.
Moriaz found her very reasonable, very well disposed to enter into his
views, to accede to his desires. She was too thoroughly pleased with
his resignation not to be willing to reward him for it with a little
complaisancy; besides, she w