us the greatest joy. Your poor mother had been ailing
since winter, but I had not spoken to you about it from
fear of making you uneasy while so far from home. As
for myself, I had not been very well; and there was yet
a third person (guess the name if you can!) who was
languishing from not seeing you. But content yourself,
my dear Leon: we have been recuperating more and more
since the time of your return is almost fixed. We begin
to believe that the mines of the Ural will not swallow
up that which is dearer to us than all the world. Thank
God! that fortune which you have so honorably and so
quickly made will not have cost your life, nor even
your health, since you tell us you have been growing
fat off there in the desert. If you have not finished
up all your business out there, so much the worse for
you: there are three of us who have sworn that you
shall never go back again. You will not find it hard to
accede, for you will be happy among us. Such, at least,
is the opinion of Clementine.... I forget that I was
pledged not to name her. Master Bonnivet, our excellent
neighbor, has not rested content with investing your
funds in a good mortgage, but has also drawn up, in his
leisure moments, a most edifying little indenture,
which now lacks nothing but your signature. Our worthy
mayor has ordered, on your account, a new official
scarf, which is on the way from Paris. You will have
the first benefit of it. Your apartment (which will
soon belong to a plural 'you') is elegant, in
proportion to your present fortune. You are to
occupy....; but the house has changed so in three
years, that my description would be incomprehensible to
you. M. Audret, the architect of the imperial chateau,
directed the work. He actually wanted to construct me a
laboratory worthy of Thenard or Duprez. I earnestly
protested against it, and said that I was not yet
worthy of one, as my celebrated work on the
Condensation of Gases had only reached the fourth
chapter. But as your mother was in collusion with the
old scamp of a friend, it has turned out that science
has henceforth a temple in our house--a regular
sorcerer's den, according to the picturesque expression
of your old Gothon: it lacks nothing, not even a
four-horse-power steam engine. Alas! what can I do with
i