ish chatter. No, my darling, there is no Samuel Brohl: I
dined yesterday at Maisons with the most authentic of Counts Larinski,
and nothing remains for me to say but to present my best wishes for the
certain happiness of the Countess Larinski, _et cetera_--of the Countess
Larinski and company."

With these words she bowed, turned on her heels, and disappeared.

Mlle. Moriaz remained an instant as if stunned by a blow. She questioned
herself as to whether she had not seen a vision, or had had the
nightmare. Was it, indeed, a Russian princess of flesh and blood who had
just been there, who had been seated close beside her, and had conversed
so strangely with her that the belfry of Cormeilles could not hear
it without falling into a profound stupor? In fact, the belfry of
Cormeilles had become silent, its bells no longer rang; an appalling
silence reigned for two leagues round.

Antoinette soon controlled her emotions. "The day before yesterday," she
thought, "this woman appeared to me to be deranged: she is a lunatic;
I wish that Abel were here, he could tell me what happened at dinner
between him and this dotard, and we should laugh over it together.
Perhaps nothing happened at all. The Princess Gulof should be confined.
They do very wrong to let maniacs like that go at large. It is
dangerous; the bells of Cormeilles have ceased ringing. Ah! _bon Dieu_,
who knows? Mme. de Lorcy surely has a hand in this business; it is the
result of some grand plot. How many acts are there in the play? Here
we are at the second or third; but there are some jokes that are very
provoking. I shall end by being seriously angry."

Princess Gulof appeared to have entirely failed in her object. It
seemed to Mlle. Moriaz that for the last twenty minutes she loved Count
Larinski more than ever before.

The hour drew near; he was on the way; she had never been so impatient
to see him. She saw some one at the end of the terrace. It was M.
Camille Langis, who was going towards the laboratory.

He turned his head, retraced his steps, and came to her. M. Moriaz had
asked him to translate two pages of a German memoir which he had not
been able to understand. Camille was bringing the translation; perhaps
that was the reason of his coming back to Cormeilles after two days;
perhaps, too, it was only a pretext.

Mlle. Moriaz could not help thinking that his visit was inopportune;
that he had chose an unfortunate time for it. "If the count finds him