seated himself at the piano, and
the two gentlemen played a concert by Mozart--divine music performed by
two angels of the first class. The conversation that followed charmed me
more than the concerto. I do not know by what fatality we came to speak
of marriage. I did not miss the opportunity to disclose with a most
innocent air, my little theories, with which you are acquainted. Would
you believe that the count concurred, more than concurred, with my
views? He is more royalist than the king; he does not admit that a good
rule allows of any exception. According to him, a poor man who marries a
rich woman forfeits his honour, debases himself, sells himself; he is a
man in bondage. He developed this theme with sombre eloquence. I assure
you that the lion no longer bore resemblance to the fox.

"After the departure of this fine musician and great orator, Abbe
Miollens, remaining alone with me, told me how much he was charmed with
his conversation and manners; he could not cease to sing his praises. I
think he went a little too far. However, I joined with him in regretting
that a man of his merit should be reduced to live by expedients.
The abbe's arm reaches a long way; he promised me that he would busy
himself, at the expense of all other business, to find some employment
for M. Larinski. He remembered that there was some talk of establishing
in London an international school for the living languages. One of
the founders of this institute had applied to him to learn if he could
recommend some professor of the Slavonian languages. It would be exactly
the thing, and I should be delighted to procure for your _protege_ an
occupation that would insure all the happiness that it is possible
to enjoy on the other side of the Channel. After this, will you still
accuse me of being prejudiced against him?

"Adieu, my dear monsieur. Give my tender love to my amiable goddaughter.
I rely on you to read my letters to her with care and discretion. Little
girls should have only a part of the truth."

Eight days afterward Mme. de Lorcy wrote a third letter, which was thus
expressed:

"August 27th.

"I am more and more content with M. Larinski. I blame myself for
the suspicions with which he inspired me. The Viennese were right to
consider him a worthy man, and Abbe Miollens has not valued him too
highly. You write, on your part, my dear friend, that you are not
dissatisfied with Antoinette. She is gay, tranquil; she walks, paints,