light　which　filtered　through　embroidered　curtains　and　added　to　their
  charm。　On　a　table　between　the　windows；　among　various　curiosities；　lay
  a　whip；　the　handle　designed　by　Mademoiselle　de　Fauveau；　which　proved
  that　the　countess　rode　on　horseback。
  Such　is　a　lady's　boudoir　in　1837；an　exhibition　of　the　contents　of
  many　shops；　which　amuse　the　eye；　as　if　ennui　were　the　one　thing　to　be
  dreaded　by　the　social　world　of　the　liveliest　and　most　stirring　capital
  in　Europe。　Why　is　there　nothing　of　an　inner　life？　nothing　which　leads
  to　revery；　nothing　reposeful？　Why　indeed？　Because　no　one　in　our　day　is
  sure　of　the　future；　we　are　living　our　lives　like　prodigal　annuitants。
  One　morning　Clementine　appeared　to　be　thinking　of　something。　She　was
  lying　at　full　length　on　one　of　those　marvellous　couches　from　which　it
  is　almost　impossible　to　rise；　the　upholsterer　having　invented　them　for
  lovers　of　the　〃far　niente〃　and　its　attendant　joys　of　laziness　to　sink
  into。　The　doors　of　the　greenhouse　were　open；　letting　the　odors　of
  vegetation　and　the　perfume　of　the　tropics　pervade　the　room。　The　young
  wife　was　looking　at　her　husband　who　was　smoking　a　narghile；　the　only
  form　of　pipe　she　would　have　suffered　in　that　room。　The　portieres；　held
  back　by　cords；　gave　a　vista　through　two　elegant　salons；　one　white　and
  gold；　comparable　only　to　that　of　the　hotel　Forbin…Janson；　the　other　in
  the　style　of　the　Renaissance。　The　dining…room；　which　had　no　rival　in
  Paris　except　that　of　the　Baron　de　Nucingen；　was　at　the　end　of　a　short
  gallery　decorated　in　the　manner　of　the　middle…ages。　This　gallery
  opened　on　the　side　of　the　courtyard　upon　a　large　antechamber；　through
  which　could　be　seen　the　beauties　of　the　staircase。
  The　count　and　countess　had　just　finished　breakfast；　the　sky　was　a
  sheet　of　azure　without　a　cloud；　April　was　nearly　over。　They　had　been
  married　two　years；　and　Clementine　had　just　discovered　for　the　first
  time　that　there　was　something　resembling　a　secret　or　a　mystery　in　her
  household。　The　Pole；　let　us　say　it　to　his　honor；　is　usually　helpless
  before　a　woman；　he　is　so　full　of　tenderness　for　her　that　in　Poland　he
  becomes　her　inferior；　though　Polish　women　make　admirable　wives。　Now　a
  Pole　is　still　more　easily　vanquished　by　a　Parisian　woman。　Consequently
  Comte　Adam；　pressed　by　questions；　did　not　even　attempt　the　innocent
  roguery　of　selling　the　suspected　secret。　It　is　always　wise　with　a
  woman　to　get　some　good　out　of　a　mystery；　she　will　like　you　the　better
  for　it；　as　a　swindler　respects　an　honest　man　the　more　when　he　finds　he
  cannot　swindle　him。　Brave　in　heart　but　not　in　speech；　Comte　Adam
  merely　stipulated　that　he　should　not　be　compelled　to　answer　until　he
  had　finished　his　narghile。
  〃If　any　difficulty　occurred　when　we　were　travelling；〃　said　Clementine；
  〃you　always　dismissed　it　by　saying；　'Paz　will　settle　that。'　You　never
  wrote　to　any　one　but　Paz。　When　we　returned　here　everybody　kept　saying；
  'the　captain；　the　captain。'　If　I　want　the　carriage'the　captain。'　Is
  there　a　bill　to　pay'the　captain。'　If　my　horse　is　not　properly
  bitted；　they　must　speak　to　Captain　Paz。　In　short；　it　is　like　a　game　of
  dominoesPaz　is　everywhere。　I　hear　of　nothing　but　Paz；　but　I　never
  see　Paz。　Who　and　what　is　Paz？　Why　don't　you　bring　forth　your　Paz？〃
  〃Isn't　everything　going　on　right？〃　asked　the　count；　taking　the
  〃bocchettino〃　of　his　narghile　from　his　lips。
  〃Everything　is　going　on　so　right　that　other　people　with　an　income　of
  two　hundred　thousand　francs　would　ruin　themselves　by　going　at　our
  pace；　and　we　have　only　one　hundred　and　ten　thousand。〃
  So　saying　she　pulled　the　bell…cord　（an　exquisite　bit　of　needlework）。　A
  footman　entered；　dressed　like　a　minister。
  〃Tell　Captain　Paz　that　I　wish　to　see　him。〃
  〃If　you　think　you　are　going　to　find　out　anything　that　way〃　said
  Comte　Adam；　laughing。
  It　is　well　to　mention　that　Adam　and　Clementine；　married　in　December；
  1835；　had　gone　soon　after　the　wedding　to　Italy；　Switzerland；　and
  Germany；　where　they　spent　the　greater　part　of　two　years。　Returning　to
  Paris　in　November；　1837；　the　countess　entered　society　for　the　first
  time　as　a　married　woman　during　the　winter　which　had　just　ended；　and
  she　then　became　aware　of　the　existence；　half…suppressed　and　wholly
  dumb　but　very　useful；　of　a　species　of　factotum　who　was　personally
  invisible；　named　Paz；spelt　thus；　but　pronounced　〃Patz。〃
  〃Monsieur　le　capitaine　Paz　begs　Madame　la　comtesse　to　excuse　him；〃
  said　the　footman；　returning。　〃He　is　at　the　stables；　as　soon　as　he　has
  changed　his　dress　Comte　Paz　will　present　himself　to　Madame。〃
  〃What　was　he　doing　at　the　stables？〃
  〃He　was　showing　them　how　to　groom　Madame's　horse；〃　said　the　man。　〃He
  was　not　pleased　with　the　way　Constantin　did　it。〃
  The　countess　looked　at　the　footman。　He　was　perfectly　serious　and　did
  not　add　to　his　words　the　sort　of　smile　by　which　servants　usually
  comment　on　the　actions　of　a　superior　who　seems　to　them　to　derogate
  from　his　position。
  〃Ah！　he　was　grooming　Cora。〃
  〃Madame　la　comtesse　intends　to　ride　out　this　morning？〃　said　the
  footman；　leaving　the　room　without　further　answer。
  〃Is　Paz　a　Pole？〃　asked　Clementine；　turning　to　her　husband；　who　nodded
  by　way　of　affirmation。
  Madame　Laginska　was　silent；　examining　Adam。　With　her　feet　extended
  upon　a　cushion　and　her　head　poised　like　that　of　a　bird　on　the　edge　of
  its　nest　listening　to　the　noises　in　a　grove；　she　would　have　seemed
  enchanting　even　to　a　blase　man。　Fair　and　slender；　and　wearing　her　hair
  in　curls；　she　was　not　unlike　those　semi…romantic　pictures　in　the
  Keepsakes；　especially　when　dressed；　as　she　was　this　morning；　in　a
  breakfast　gown　of　Persian　silk；　the　folds　of　which　could　not　disguise
  the　beauty　of　her　figure　or　the　slimness　of　her　waist。　The　silk　with
  its　brilliant　colors　being　crossed　upon　the　bosom　showed　the　spring　of
  the　neck；its　whiteness　contrasting　delightfully　against　the　tones　of
  a　guipure　lace　which　lay　upon　her　shoulders。　Her　eyes　and　their　long
  black　lashes　added　at　this　moment　to　the　expression　of　curiosity　which
  puckered　her　pretty　mouth。　On　the　forehead；　which　was　well　modelled；
  an　observer　would　have　noticed　a　roundness　characteristic　of　the　true
  Parisian　woman；self…willed；　merry；　well…informed；　but　inaccessible
  to　vulgar　seductions。　Her　hands；　which　were　almost　transparent；　were
  hanging　down　at　the　end　of　each　arm　of　her　chair；　the　tapering
  fingers；　slightly　turned　up　at　their　points；　showed　nails　like
  almonds；　which　caught　the　light。　Adam　smiled　at　his　wife's　impatience；
  and　looked　at　her　with　a　glance　which　two　years　of　married　life　had
  not　yet　chilled。　Already　the　little　countess　had　made　herself　mistress
  of　the　situation；　for　she　scarcely　paid　attention　to　her　husband's
  admiration。　In　fact；　in　the　look　which　she　occasionally　cast　at　him；
  there　seemed　to　be　the　consciousness　of　a　Frenchwoman's　ascendancy
  over　the　puny；　volatile；　and　red…haired　Pole。
  〃Here　comes　Paz；〃　said　the　count；　hearing　a　step　which　echoed　through
  the　gallery。
  The　countess　beheld　a　tall　and　handsome　man；　well…made；　and　bearing　on
  his　face　the　signs　of　pain　which　come　of　inward　strength　and　secret
  endurance　of　sorrow。　He　wore　one　of　those　tight；　frogged　overcoats
  which　were　then　called　〃polonaise。〃　Thick；　black　hair；　rather　unkempt；
  covered　his　square　head；　and　Clementine　noticed　his　broad　forehead
  shining　like　a　block　of　white　marble；　for　Paz　held　his　visored　cap　in
  his　hand。　The　hand　itself　was　like　that　of　the　Infant　Hercules。　Robust
  health　flourished　on　his　face；　which　was　divided　by　a　large　Roman　nose
  and　reminded　Clementine　of　some　handsome　Transteverino。　A　black　silk
  cravat　added　to　the　martial　appearance　of　this　six…foot　mystery；　with
  eyes　of　jet　and　Italian　fervor。　The　amplitude　of　his　pleated　trousers；
  which　allowed　only　the　tips　of　his　boots　to　be　seen；　revealed　his
  faithfulness　to　the　fashions　of　his　own　land。　There　was　something
  really　burlesque　to　a　romantic　woman　in　the　striking　contrast　no　one
  could　fail　to　remark　between　the　captain　and　the　count；　the　little
  Pole　with　his　pinched　face　and　the　stalwart　soldier。
  〃Good　morning；　Adam；〃　he　said　familiarly。　Then　he　bowed　courteously　as
  he　asked　Clementine　what　he　could　do　for　her。
  〃You　are　Laginski's　friend！〃　exclaimed　the　countess。
  〃For　life　and　death；〃　answered　Paz；　to　whom　the　count　threw　a　smile　of
  affection　as　he　drew　a　last　puff　from　his　perfumed　pipe。
  〃Then　why　don't　you　take　your　meals　with　us？　why　did　you　not　accompany
  us　to　Italy　and　Switzerland？　why　do　you　hide　yourself　in　such　a　way
  that　I　am　unable　to　thank　you　for　the　constant　services　that　you　do
  for　us？〃　said　the　countess；　with　much　vivacity　of　manner　but　no
  feeling。
  In　fact；　she　thought　she　perceived　in　Paz　a　sort　of　voluntary
  servitude。　Such　an　idea　carried　with　it　in　her　mind　a　certain　contempt
  for　a　social　amphibian；　a　being　half…secretary；　half…bailiff；　and　yet
  neither　the　one　nor　the　other；　a　poor　relation；　an　embarrassing
  frien