She replied that she did not believe in contingencies, and that she did not like precautions, because they presupposed distrust, and might appear offensive.

“We have charming weather to-day,” said her father; “nevertheless there is a possibility of rain to-morrow.  If I started this evening on a journey, I should carry my umbrella, without fearing to insult Providence.  Who speaks to you of offending M. Larinski?  Not content with approving of the step I propose taking, he will thank me for it.  Why did he at first refuse to marry you?  Because you are rich, and he is poor.  The contract I wish to have drawn up will thoroughly set at ease his disinterestedness and his pride.”

“The question of money no longer exists for him,” she eagerly replied; “it is my desire that it should not be started again.  And since you like comparisons, let us suppose that you invited one of your friends to take a turn in your garden.  Your espaliers are laden with fruit, and you know that your friend is an honest man, and that, besides, he does not care for pears.  Suppose you were to put handcuffs on him, would he or would he not be insulted?”

He answered in an exceedingly vexed tone, that this was entirely different, and Mlle. Moiseney having taken the liberty to interfere in the discussion in Antoinette’s behalf, declaring that Counts Larinski are not to be distrusted, and that men of science are incapable of comprehending delicacy of sentiment, he gave full vent to his wrath, telling the worthy demoiselle to meddle with what concerned her.  For the first time in his life he was seriously angry.  Antoinette caressed him into good-humour, promised that she would put on the best possible face to Maitre Noirot, that she would pay religious attention to his counsels, and that she would endeavour to profit by them.

While M. Moriaz was engaged in this stormy interview with his daughter, Samuel Brohl was en route for Maisons.  After the first flush of astonishment, the note and invitation of Mme. de Lorcy had pleased him immensely; he saw in it the proof that she had ceased to struggle against the inevitable—­against Samuel Brohl and destiny; that she had resolved to bear her disappointment with a cheerful countenance.  He formed the generous resolution to console her for her vexation; to gain her good-will by force of modesty and graceful attentions.

Alone in his compartment of the cars, Samuel Brohl was happy, perfectly happy.  He was nearing port; he held it for an established fact that, before a fortnight, the banns would be published.  Was he alone in his compartment?  An adored image kept him company; he spoke to it, it replied to him.  Blended with a rather uncommon frigidity of soul, Samuel Brohl had an imagination that readily took fire, and, when his imagination was kindled, he felt within him something warm, which he took for a heart, and sincerely persuaded himself that he had such an organ.