e, as she exclaimed:

"He has no fortune, but he has a beautiful name. Mme. la Comtesse
Larinski! it sounds well to the ear."

"Like music; I grant, it is perfect," rejoined M. Moriaz.
"Unfortunately, music is not everything in the affairs of this world."

She was not listening to him. Full of her own idea, without taking time
to breathe: "You jest, monsieur," she continued, with extraordinary
volubility. "Believe me or not, I have foreseen this marriage for some
time. I have presentiments that never deceive me. I was sure that it
would be thus. What a handsome couple! Fancy them driving in an open
carriage through the park, or entering a proscenium-box at the opera!
They will make a sensation. And truly, without boasting, I think I may
call your attention to the fact that I have been of some account in the
affair. The first time I saw Count Larinski, you know, at the _table
d'hote_ in Bergun, I recognised at once that he was beyond comparison--"

"By-the-way, he ate trout?" interrupted M. Moriaz; "it does honour to
your discernment."

"You had better ask Antoinette," replied she, "if that very evening I
did not praise the handsome stranger. She maintained that he stooped,
and that his head was badly poised; would you believe it?--his head
badly poised! Ah! I was sure it would end so. Do you wish to prove my
discernment? Shall I tell you where your letter comes from that contains
such excellent news? The count wrote it; he has at last proposed. I
guessed it at once. Ah! monsieur, I sympathize in your joy. He is,
indeed, the son-in-law that I have dreamed of for you. A superior man,
so open-hearted, so unaffected and frank!"

"Do you really think so?" asked M. Moriaz, fanning himself with the
letter.

"He related to us his whole life," rejoined she, in a pedantic tone.
"How many people could do as much?"

"A delightful narration. I only regret that he was silent concerning one
detail which was of a nature to interest us."

"An unpleasant detail?" she asked, raising her gooseberry-coloured eyes
to him.

"On the contrary, a circumstance that does him honour, and for which I
am obliged to him. Believe me, my dear demoiselle, I should be charmed
to receive a son-in-law from your hands, and to give my daughter to a
man whose genius and noble sentiments you divined from merely seeing him
eat. Unfortunately, I fear this marriage will not come about; there is
one little difficulty."

"What?"

"Count Larinski forg