"Shall I tell you my reason? I am not fond of breaking ice, and Poles complain that there is nothing in the world so icy as Parisian coldness.""That explains itself," cried Camille."Paris, that is Paris proper, is a small city of a hundred thousand souls, and this small city is invaded more and more, by strangers who come here to seek pleasure or fortune.It is but natural that Paris should protect itself.""Parisians pride themselves on their penetration," replied Samuel."It does not require much of it to distinguish an honest man from an adventurer.""Ah! permit me," returned M.Langis, "that depends a good deal on practice.The most skillful are deceived."Samuel Brohl rose and made a movement to leave.Mme.de Lorcy insisted on his sitting down again.She saw that she had made a bad beginning in the fulfilment of her office of examining magistrate, and of gaining the prisoner's confidence.Fearing that Camille, in spite of his promise, would spoil everything by some insult, she found a pretext to send him away; she begged that he would go and examine a pair of horses that were a recent acquisition.
As soon as he was gone, she changed her manner; she grew amiable, she endeavoured to remove the ill impression of her first welcome; she put Count Abel at his ease, who felt that the air lost its chilliness about him.Without appearing to do so, she made him undergo an examination- she asked him many questions; he replied promptly.
Visitors came in; it was an hour before he took leave, after having promised Mme.de Lorcy to dine with her the next day.
She did not wait until then to write to M.Moriaz.Her letter was thus conceived:
"August 16, 1875.
"You recommend me to be impartial, my dear friend.Why should I not be? It is true that I have dreamed of a certain marriage: one of the parties would not listen to my propositions, and the other had abandoned the idea.My project has come to nothing.Camille has enjoined me never to speak of it to him again.You see I am no longer interested in the question, or, rather, I have in the matter no other interest than that which I feel for Antoinette, whose happiness is as dear to me as it is to you.Apropos, do not give her my letters; read to her the passages that you judge suitable to communicate to her--I leave that to your discretion.
"First of all, let me unfold to you my humble opinions.I am charged with having prejudices; it is a shocking calumny.I will make you a profession of faith, and you shall judge.I am at war with more than one point of our French morals; I deplore the habit that we have formed of considering marriage as a business transaction, of esteeming it as a financial or commercial partnership, and making everything subordinate to the equality of the personal estates.This principle is revolting to me, my dear friend.We are accused in foreign countries of being an immoral people.Heavens! it seems to me that we understand and practise virtue quite as much as the English or Germans, and, to speak the whole truth, I am not afraid to advance the opinion that this, of all the countries of the universe, is the one where there is the most virtue.It is not at that point that we sin.Our misfortune is, that we are too rational in our habits of life, too circumspect, too prudent; we lack boldness in our undertakings; we wish, as it is said, to have one foot on firm land and the other not far off.We must have security; we do not like risk; doubtful affairs do not please us; we are too prone to look ahead, and to look ahead is to fear.That is one reason why we send out no colonies, and that is the reason we have no more children.Are you satisfied with me?
"Napoleon I was in the habit of saying that, in fighting a battle, he so ordered matters as to have seventy chances out of a hundred in his favour; he left the rest to Fate.Ah! brave people, life is a battle, but the French of to-day will not risk anything.They are the most honest, the least romantic of men, and I regret it.
Read Antoinette this passage of my letter.Our young people think that they have a right to the paternal fortune; they consider that their father is wanting in his duty if he does not leave them a settled position, a certain future.Their second preconceived notion is that they must find a wife who will bring them as much at least as they have to offer her.I have so much, you have so much--we are evidently created for each other; let us marry.All this is deplorable.I like better to hear of the young American who only expects from his parents the education necessary for a man to make his way; he has his tools given to him and the method of using them, but not a sou.You have learned to swim, my friend --swim.After that he marries, most frequently a woman who has nothing, and who loves to spend money.May the God Dollar protect him! he will gaily make an opening for himself in life, and his wife will give him ten children, who will follow the same course as their father.Where it is customary for hunger to marry thirst, there are happy marriages, and a hardy race of people.In all conscience, am I not romantic enough?
